Starcrossed

"Thank you, Steven! Good luck, Mark! It was a pleasure, Martin! Good night, beautiful Louise!"

They all waved with hints of laughter and amusement as Benedict lead the lively young thing off set. Louise blew Makenzie a kiss as Martin gave Benedict a suggestive wink- one he didn't mean for Makenzie to see but she did. A cab was already waiting for them so the two climbed in. Each gave a heavy sigh, his from being tired and hers from a level of excitement she had never known.

"That was unbelievable!" she exclaimed with such animation that he laughed. "And you! You were brilliant! Very proud of you," she added a bit more serious but still grinning like a fool.

"Where to, sir?"

Benedict's face changed at the cabbie's remark. Even from the backseat the glow of street lights revealed his questioning gaze. He didn't want her to feel pressured yet craved some alone time with her. The night was still young, only seven o'clock. Their hours were numbered and he didn't want to waste a single moment with this extraordinary young woman who was capturing his thoughts along with other things he didn't want to dwell on for long.

She gave a small nod and a shy smile as answer.

"Home, James," Ben smiled.

The cab began to roll as lights slowly rolled through the windows. Makenzie was first to break their-intimate?-stare.

"Second best day of my life," she sighed, not remembering when she last felt so alive.

"Second?"

"Well, third actually," she corrected herself, hoping she was driving him mad.

"What was number two?"

"The night I met Sherlock on Gower Street," she teased, leaning over until her shoulder bumped his, flirty but not too bold.

"And number one?"

"Perhaps later," she answered in a tone that suggested she wanted to keep the memory private.

Maybe one day she would tell him but he wasn't very concerned. After all, her number two and three were with him. It was flattering, really. This was another brief glance of the fangirl she was hiding so well.

Her eyes ventured beyond the glass to the quickly emptying streets. Life was a strange thing. When she packed her bags onto the shuttle bus only days ago, there was no way she could have predicted what events would unfold. Yes, she was going to experience London. But meeting Benedict Cumberbatch, getting to know him personally, and him wanting her around were more than she even thought to imagine- even in her wildest of hopes. And more than that, she couldn’t shake the way she felt when he looked at her that way, shared the amazing things with him, and when he-

Her hand was suddenly, and gently, seized by his. When she turned to face him, his soft shining eyes were already fixed on her. Just as last night, she wondered what he was thinking. What thoughts floated around his head to make him stare at her so? Her eyes roamed down towards his lips without her consent. The suddenly nervous young lady forced her eyes back to his hoping he didn't notice. London passed by for another several silent minutes until the cab pulled up to Mark's place. Ben paid the faire with a polite word of thanks. He told her not to move before he ran around the car to her side, opening the door for her.

"Why thank you, kind sir," she teased in a dramatic posh tone.

He took her hand echoing her tone, "My deepest pleasure, miss. And may I say you look absolutely beautiful in London lights."

Makenzie tried to calm a fierce wave of thoughts brought on from his comment. There was something in his tone and wording that suggested he liked her in London. He liked her with him. But that wasn't realistic. After another few days this all was as good as a dream. What were the chances of her ever seeing him again? This made part of her want to rush into a memorable night of emotion yet her more sensible reminded her of the numbing pain that came with heartbreak. But those were thoughts she could wrestle with later.

They were greeted when entering the lobby, her arm linked through his. The man at the desk must have assumed far more was going on than the innocent truths of the matter. Once in the lift, Ben looked down on her and put his hand to her cheek. No, he wasn't going to kiss her but he was close enough to change her breathing and slightly widen her eyes. That expression made her heart race and thoughts skim the surface of what she couldn't allow herself to even begin to imagine. It's almost over, she reminded herself.

But his intense eyes.

Their locked eyes shifted at the sound of the lift's bell, announcing their arrival to Mark's floor. His hand slid from her cheek to gesture for her to exit first. They walked down the hall with his hand at the small of her back, more bold than before. Without conversation, he opened the door and once again let her go in first. The thought of Mark Gatiss' flat being familiar to her brought a smile. She heard his keys hit the kitchen table as she made her way to the large window. He set the kettle, got two cups, and moved about the kitchen for another minute or two. It was a sweet gesture yet she couldn't bring herself to look at him.

Even then she could feel her mind at war with itself. It would be so easy to-

"May I be a bit arrogant, or will you give me another verbal lashing?" he half chuckled with a cheeky grin. Ben handed her a steaming cup. She couldn't even remember the kettle going off.

"Well, I suppose since you've worked so hard today… and you asked so sweetly already knowing how smug you are at present…" Makenzie blew at the top of the liquid with almond shaped eyes peering up from the cup's rim.

A wonderful throaty sound filled the room just as he began, "You'd be the envy of every girl in London had they known you were in there today. You met everyone and were on set." He paused, still staring at her but now with something that looked like amazement. "You're excited, I see that but… You didn't treat them any different than you would Sophie. Nothing short of unusual."

She blushed with a small half chuckle of her own, finding his curiosity a bit comical.

"Well, you know my theory on celebrities. Just people with talent."

His tired posture changed to one more playful before bumping her shoulder the way she had his.

"And how long have you been following this celebrity?" He was shy yet confident- entirely handsome.

"Smug indeed," she giggled, her laughter and sparkling eyes stirring something inside him. "The first role I saw you play was Hawking."

"That was in 2004!" He could hardly believe what he had just heard. "You were just a…"

"I was fourteen, yeah" she admitted with the last of her giggles. "You were instantly my celebrity crush and dad absolutely hated it. He didn't like me fangirling on someone nearly a decade older than his little girl."

"And what are your opinions about said decade now?"

She planned her answer very carefully. It was still far too early and new to guess what would happen beyond her concluding educational holiday.

"Well, the older I get, the more I agree with the common idea that age matters less when one becomes an adult."

"Clever answer," he smirked, amused yet pleased.

They chatted about everything and nothing there at the window until both cups were empty. Makenzie took his cup loving the way her hand accidentally brushed against his. She began to wash them then noticed the few strides he took towards her.

"I can manage. No need for us to be doing dishes together. Thanks for the cuppa, by the way."

Her voice was casual with that teasing undertone he could still hear even when she wasn't around. He had been so good with her until now. Keeping his hands from her small perfect curves was becoming impossible. MakenzieDaniels was more touchy than the average Brit, perhaps due to her time spent in America. It made him wonder if she would even allow him a bit of hands on flirting. After ardently fighting with himself for a few seconds about it he made his decision.

"And what does doing dishes together have to do with anything?" he sassed, nervously placing his hands at her waist. What was he doing? He never behaved like this with someone he just met. Certainly not with a fan.

Makenzie froze for a moment under his touch, almost dropped the soapy cup in her hand. She quickly rinsed the cup while hoping he didn't notice the sharp hitch in her breathing. This was the dangerous part she hadn't dared to anticipate. His hands felt amazing on her, friendly without being intrusive. Then again, BenedictCumberbatch was holding her hips as she did dishes. As soon as the second cup was clean, she turned in his arms with a mischievous gleam in her eye.

"Terribly brave, Mr.Cumberbatch. If you don't behave yourself, I may just become a Tom Hiddleston fan."

"You wouldn't dare," he playfully hissed.

He began tickling her without care. Her cries, squeals, and pleas did nothing as she tried to wiggle away from his treacherous magnificent hands. They somehow moved from the kitchen to the sitting room. The few times she managed to poke a finger in his ribs, he laughed the way she had always longed to hear- his genuinely happy playful little sounds of mirth. She accidentally snorted, immediately humiliated, but he only laughed all the harder. His being so comfortable around her eased any traces of doubt that had built since the unexpected snort. Then there was the wall.

Neither noticed how close they were getting to the wall until Makenzie found herself pushed between the wall and Benedict. The quick dull pain of her back crashing against the wall only lasted a second, long enough for her eyes to meet his when his hips crashed into hers from their abrupt stop. He looked just as surprised as she was, obviously not seeing the wall himself. Their current proximity further heightened the tension that had been building between them since that very first night. Ben slowly put his hands at her hips once more, bombs going off in his mind from the battle that raged between his sexual and gentlemanly selves. Several seconds of panted breaths passed before Makenzie cleared her throat- her glossy eyes unable to move from his. Their bodies and faces were so close.

"This could be dangerous," he whispered in the low sexy voice she found utterly intoxicating in person. Before she could ask her question of how he continued. "You and I… What we have here- what we're doing this precise moment… It all feels so-"

"Natural," she finished for him. His reply was given in a slow nod, those dark curls bouncing just above his eye brows and oceanic eyes. "Yeah."