Starcrossed

The cab ride had been mostly quiet yet pleasant. He appreciated the fact that he could simply be with her in silence. From what he could tell, she wasn't one of those girls who needed to be entertained. In fact, he was surprised that she hadn't asked more of him. Surely she knew that his resources were endless. Her any wish could without a doubt be granted with one phone call. Yet there she sat, hands gracefully sitting in her lap, confident in her quietness, and extremely thankful for anything he chose to do for her. Makenzie Daniels possessed charm and beauty that equaled his former dates, usually posh wealthy things that had been fighting for his attention for weeks. But this girl had one trait that stood out even among success and social status. Mystery.

"We're almost there," the majestic low voice rumbled beside her.

Instead of meeting his brief gaze, she suddenly began to panic. The passing lights of London that gave her face a pleasant glow, beyond her already glowing eyes, revealed her look of worry. She grabbed her leather bag she had been carrying all day.

"I just thought of something. I can't bring this purse in there with this dress," she exclaimed with her voice cracking at the end.

"Why not?" He remained so calm and collected. As if he didn't understand her minor freak out.

"I can't go in there wearing a leather purse and a silk evening gown! I'll be the laughingstock of the whole place." He didn't dare say it aloud but she was adorable when she fretted. Ben had never kidnapped someone like this before and found it a bit comical. All of his previous dates had hours to get ready. Makenzie had been stolen in her street clothes.

"Have you seen the photos of me at festivals?" the man asked with a cheeky grin.

She tried not to be cross with him yet she couldn't tell if he was being serious or teasing her. As if he could honestly sympathize with me, the young woman's inner voice growled. He always had the convenience of his own wardrobe when changing from rags to riches. Besides, he was bloody Benedict Cumberbatch. The man looked fantastic in anything- even a news paper. Her train of thought almost strayed after remembering the famous photo of him that had been on the internet for years, almost.

"Yes, but those are of you at festivals. It's a bit different when a celebrity dresses sloppy to fit in. Not that you looked sloppy. I just meant-"

"It doesn't bother me, honestly." He was serious now, obviously concerned about her comfort. But if you are bothered-"

"No. I just didn't want to embarrass you in front of-"

"We won't know a soul there between us," Ben laughed, not necessarily at her but at the memory of his first time in a restaurant full of famous people. When he could finally step foot in places like this, a few of his acting heroes already knew of him. He couldn't imagine how she felt. It then became his mission to make her as comfortable and carefree as possible while he showed her a good time- or at least tried to.

"Fine. Maybe they can take it somewhere. By the coats perhaps." That sounded reasonable.

---

It took him four times of telling her to order anything she liked before she decided against the simple house salad, which was almost twenty pounds alone. Knowing she would never get this chance again, she bravely ordered the lasagna and a glass of white wine. He sweetly confirmed that her choice was a good one before ordering his own meal, an Italian dish she had never heard of, and telling their waiter to make the white wine a bottle. Makenzie's eyes were still wide when the composed fanboy took their menus.

"That must be difficult," she said to break the silence, and in attempt to calm her own hidden excitement.

Benedict furrowed his brows with that little questioning smirk she was finding more sexy each time he did so. No! She couldn't admit to even herself that anything he did was "sexy". This was the last time she would be seeing him and even this was a miracle. There could be no getting attached to him. It was best for her to continue that mindset that this was all a pleasant dream. Tomorrow, she would go back to real life, where she was nothing to her celebrity crush. The plan was to enjoy the night while it was happening, treasure the memory, then move on.

"It must be difficult to wait on celebrities as a fan. He obviously knows who you are and is practically beside himself to be talking with you, even if it's merely taking your order." She gave a small laugh before growing impatient for the wine. She didn't drink often but who couldn't resist an opportunity like this. Besides, it was only a drink or two.

"This is going to sound mad but," those light eyes darted around. Ben continued in a soft voice, "I myself still have fanboy moments. Can't help myself. After a decade of making movies and such and I still get a thrill seeing particular faces."

"That's not mad at all," she replied without hesitation. "Your humility and humbleness is very noticed and beloved among your fans."

"Oh, is that so?" he gently chuckled, finally introduced to her inner fangirl- the one she had kept silent since their first meeting.

"Yes. Here you are, one of the most talked about celebrities of the year, and you still see yourself as one of the public. You still don't see yourself as one of them, their equal. But you are. You are every bit as good as anyone else here. For example-" she looked around, not even trying to be inconspicuous, for a familiar face. One was walking in their direction at that moment. Her brain didn't make the connection until the second after the name escaped her lips. "There's Martin Freeman."

Her eyes widened and her hand immediately covered her mouth in shock. There was Martin Freeman, just three steps away from their table with his eyes already on Benedict.

"What are you doing here?" It was comically obvious that he would have called Ben something more crude if she hadn't been sitting there. The man must have thought she was someone of importance and didn’t want to be offensive.

"You bugger! Heaven forbid I go somewhere without you following me," Ben teased shaking his mate's hand.

The entire Sherlock fanbase was aware of the two's close friendship. But seeing them together in person was an experience of its own. They acted like brothers, very comfortable and quite relaxed with the other's presence.

"I was here first. Was actually just popping out." His eyes finally met Makenzie's- the poor girl was doing everything in her power to not go into ballistics and ruin the tranquil mature facade. "Who is this lovely creature?" She blushed at his words and friendly stare.

"Martin, this is Ms. Makenzie Daniels," Benedict introduced with genuine pride.

"You're not a designer are you?" Freeman asked as if the profession was shameful.

"Oh, lay off," Ben cackled with his own cheeks reddening. "She's in London on holiday."

"Thank God. Couldn't take another bloody model hanging around." She noticed Ben's aumused stare turn to one of disapproval at the comment. "Sorry mate, it was a joke. Only a joke. She's more than pretty enough to be a model. No problems with that."

"Oh, piss off," Ben smiled with a growl, no longer uncomfortable at Martin's harsh teasing.

"It was lovely to meet you, Miss Daniels. And I'll see you later this week," he winked towards Ben in a flirtatious matter with a sexual undertone in his voice.

"Good night!" Makenzie called out as he turned away. Martin gave a quick wave then disappeared into the crowd.

Their bottle of wine arrived once Martin was out of sight. Ben kept his eyes on a grinning Makenzie. The waiter poured them each a glass and left the bottle in an ice bucket on the table but Cumberbatch's eyes never left the young woman across the table. She was clearly taking a few seconds to process what had just happened, again, not allowing her thoughts to be read on her face. Ben thanked him but kept his intense eyes on Makenzie. The fanboy waiter was gone after telling them to enjoy the wine.

"Go on then," he coaxed with a cheeky grin. Makenzie could only smile, eyes brighter than ever, shaking her head- not giving in to his pressure or her inner fangirl screaming to be released. "You know, you might explode if you hold it all in." Another nod of beautiful rebellion. Leaning towards her, eyes tearing right into her and both corners of his mouth turned upwards, he dramatically whispered, "You. Just. Met. John Watson and Bilbo Baggins."

It took all of three seconds for her walls to completely crumble down to a pile of emotion.

"That was Martin Freeman!" she cheered in hushed hilarity. "He was right there! He called me pretty!" she said breathlessly, now slouching back into her seat with disbelief. She didn't even care that a few pairs nearby her way. "Oh my gosh! That was absolutely mad!"

She saw the light in his eyes and, for the briefest of moments, wondered what it would be like to be Ben's girl. Makenzie didn't let the fanciful thought mature yet she didn't entirely push it from her mind. But she knew that she would never be anything more to him than the school girl he met by chance.

When the food came, the small talk commenced. He told her a bit of his childhood and other information he had scratched the surface of in interviews over the years. She had her own thoughtful questions and he found unexplainable joy in making her laugh, a feeling he didn't quite know what to do with. He smirked at her as their plates were taken away, every last bite of the delicious plates were gone.

"We'll take one slice of your devil's food," he spoke to the waiter.

"One for each of you, sir?"

"No, just one. Two forks please," he answered with a new gleam in his eyes.

Even in the dimly lit room, the young woman had noticed the change in his eyes, smile, and body language since Martin had left. Benedict actually felt comfortable with her, enough to share a piece of dessert. It made the restless butterflies flutter in her stomach and her pulse raise. Their gazes crossed then she took one last sip of her wine.

"You haven't asked anything about my characters," he mused, watching her very closely now.
"I'm probably your only fan who doesn't like spoilers," she grinned in a shy manner, not wanting to offend him in any way. "I almost go out of my way to wait for things."

"You're a patient woman," he smiled, hoping she understood his complimentary comment. "I've noticed that since meeting you. Just one of your many admirable qualities."

"Oh?" she blushed. "Go on." The girl was only teasing yet he surprised her by obeying.

"You are very kind, humble to a fault, intelligent, there is a certain depth to you, and you, Makenzie Daniels, genuinely have one of the sweetest souls I have ever encountered."

What could she possibly say? No words came to her mind, a rarity as an English major. The man had actually left her speechless. There was only one phrase, one that didn't properly convey what she wanted to say, that came from her ruby painted lips.

"Thank you, Benedict. From the bottom of my heart, thank you."

For the second time that night, he leaned in over the table as far as he could towards her. That little smirk that drove her insane suddenly appeared. As he had done many times tonight, he put her on the spot.

"Ask me anything about my work," he flirtatiously dared.

After mirroring his sitting posture, meeting him almost in the middle of the intimate table, she looked around then whispered, "How did Sherlock do it?"

Benedict let out a full deep laugh, his entire face lighting up with pleasure. Of all the questions she could have asked, he loved the fact that she chose the one she knew he couldn't answer- putting him on the spot as he had done her. Makenzie began to laugh as well, finding his own baritone cackles contagious. Of course he wasn't going to tell her. The man couldn't even tell his own bloody mother. The two fell back into their regular sitting positions, still happily staring at one another.

"But you should consider teasing your fans a bit. Sometime when you're on an interview or doing a special video to promote Sherlock, you should give some rubbish explanation about how he did it. I think they would fancy that."

"And would you watch it, risk being told the truth before the actual footage aired?"

"Absolutely not," the young woman shook her head, a single wisp of her hair falling onto her shoulder.

Before his testing and prodding could continue, their waiter came by and dropped off their dark chocolate cake.

"I don't usually eat dessert when filming but… this is my absolute favorite. And I promised Sophie. Go ahead, ladies first."

Makenzie dug her fork into the moist dark cake then studied her bit, noticing the thickness of the icing and bits of chocolate chips covering one side. She put it into her mouth without another thought. Little did she know that he had watched her mouth without meaning to. The way her lips parted and her tongue ever so slightly slid between the red surfaces quickened his heartbeat. He wondered what kissing her would be like- not that he usually kissed his dates the first night (he could hardly work the nerve to go for a simple chaste kiss the second night), but she was… different. Yes, that was a proper description. He watched her eyes suddenly light up.

His chin rested on his right fist as his index finger curled around his lips- she noticed his change in position before she exclaimed, "This is the best cake I've tasted in my life! My new favorite as well," she teased. "Though I highly doubt I'll ever come here again." Her soft giggle gave him an idea.

"Would you like it to go?"

"Yes, please. I couldn't eat another bite if Moriarty told me to."

He rolled his eyes. While her comment had been amusing and forced a wide grin out of him, yet again, his recent thought wouldn't allow him a full chuckle or even half a laugh. Ten minutes later, Benedict paid the bill and tip. She hadn't expected him to pull her chair out for her and offer his hand to help her up. Makenzie put her hand in his with a thrill that made her chest tight. He then linked her arm into his as they made their way to the front desk. She picked up her purse, no longer minding the clashing of the different materials- too lost in his searching eyes.

When they entered onto the street, a cab was already waiting for them. The pair got in and he said an unfamiliar address. Instead of questioning him, she allowed herself one last surprise of the night. She felt like Cinderella must have when she glanced at the clock to find she only had a few minutes of magic left. His softest voice yet ripped her away from her thoughts.

"Everyone was looking at you tonight, and not because of anything you did wrong." A pause. Ben's hand traced her cheek, making her flinch at the unexpected contact. "You were stunning." Another pause- this time one more self-conscience. "You.. are stunning."