Lavanya

I had this dream, during my afternoon nap where I was professional choreographer and was chosen for Strictly Come Dancing. And my partner was guess who?...

If you know me, you may have guessed it right. Yes, that's right, it was Mr. Snake Hips himself.

Tom I-have-an-army-of-fangirls Absofrickinglutely Perfect Hiddleston. And I was getting the chance to dance with ,of liquid grace and beautiful face,of limpid eyes and me, of the yearning sighs. But, I digress. I apologise.

So, here I was told by my team that I was to dance with HIM. Needless to say,I fainted right away.I was absolutely terrified,mortified,horrified, in other words, totally fried. My goose was cooked. Because how could I be expected to partner with someone who I not only admired,respected and adored but was a rabid fangirl of. I have a shrine to his name on my computer,for Crissakes!

So his publicist and friend, came to talk guess what I do, I babble away at Luke,and don't let him get a word in 's my thing; babbling, that is. Even my dreamself .

The next day,or the day of the practise(I forgot to note it down)

(Yes,I note down my dreams,it helps me relax,gives me ideas or as I call them .)

I met Thomas, he was in his Tardis suit(I don't know why).I remembered my friend telling me about it and I started giggling,unable to looked surprised, but in good humour. He raised an eyebrow,and said ever so charmingly,'Steady,doll.'

And I, being myself,froze in shock. Oh!Holy Hell. Thomas William Hiddleston was speaking and I was frozen in shock,like a badly made wax replica of myself in Madame Tussaud's.

'This is a bit not good.' said the doctor inside my head.

'Yes, thank you for your contribution,darling brain of mine. Now,please unfreeze me.' I replied.

While I argued with myself, Tom was staring at me with his broody face. I think he was thinking of having me committed. Or thinking me, an ill-mannered princess-type brat.

I hadn't said hello yet nor introduced myself. But then, neither had calls people 'doll' in a bedroom voice,probably not meaning to do so, on their first meeting?

Suave,handsome, cheekbone-y,symmetrically mandibled, charming devils of British crumpets, aka You-know-who. No, not Voldemort. Apparently they are also called Tom and would result in the undoing and untimely death of an crazy yet innocent(somewhat), babbling queen & primadonnas like myself. And there is only one me,I checked.

Inner monologue,kindly stop. I thought to myself,yet again. Look brain, Tom's lips are moving. Why were his lips moving?

Ooh,right! He must be speaking then. Was he speaking to me? Of course,I thought to myself,there was no one else in my office. Right then, I must respond.

I squeaked,'Hello, sir.' at the same time he said,'Hi, I'm Tom.'

'Hi,Tom.' I croaked(even my dreamself had a sore throat or was it the presence of a certain British actor?) I held out my hand to shake and succeeded in tripping over the carpet(OMG!Since when has my carpet been Lokified?), that resulted in swooning into his arms. He apologised. 'What in the seventh circle of hell was he apologising for?' I thought and as was becoming the ritual, fainted.

Colour me mortified.

DWTS-XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX-DWTS

A/N- Hiya,folks. This is my first fanfic. Well,I do have a blog and , I don't usually write .That's not true.I write fanfics,declare them rubbish and delete is the first time I've had the courage to publish one of 'em.
So,please let me know if you loved/hated/can't be bothered and have any helpful comments regarding this tale. Review even if to say, 'you suck big time, dudette!'(though I hope it doesn't suck) so that I may know if I should continue this you for taking the time to read the fic, and the bigass Author's note. Love y'all. Have a good day.