Imprint - 2. Ch. 1 Part II

II

He almost called out sick. It had taken forever to calm down enough to sleep after his nighttime excursion; he was still stressed, tired and stressed from being tired. He had his hand on the phone, he knew Lillian would understand, he had done this before. But some instinct, or perhaps just a hope that work would be distracting, and he thought better of it.

When he walked through the door and saw Sophie sitting at a table across from a head of golden blond hair and a long dark coat, he sorely regretted not going with his first instinct. When Sophie glanced up at him with a truly frightening smile and, seeing her look, that golden head turned and pine green eyes met his, he almost bolted back out the door. Instead he brushed by them just as quickly as he could without making it too obvious he was running (and failing at that, he was sure), ignoring any attempts of Sophie's to get his attention, wishing now he had never met her.

Sophie poked her head in the doorway as soon as he was finished hanging up his coat. “Hey Frost, can you do me a favor?” that horrid smile was still there, “Rachel's busy helping some old woman find something or other, and I really got to go to the bathroom. So, do you think you can hang out at the counter for a minute for me?”

He sighed, exasperated, “Sophie, no.”

“Oh come on, Frostie! You keep saying saying you can do this sometimes and its not a big deal, right? Do a girl a favor.” Her eyes were laughing at him, “Besides, its not like I'm leaving you with a long line. There's, like, one person out there, and I'm pretty sure he doesn't bite.”

He folded his arms across his chest, glaring at her. “You do not have to go to the bathroom,” he stubbornly insisted.

She snorted, “The hell I don't, I just drank a whole thermos full of coffee.” She gave him a wide grin and left the doorway, moving toward the restrooms, calling over her shoulder, “Thanks Frostie! I owe you one!” As though he had ever agreed.

He stood still for a moment, thinking what to do. He was very tempted to just slip into the office, lock the door and forget the whole thing; Sophie would be back soon enough, in all likelihood she was within earshot just waiting to see what he would do. But perhaps not, and perhaps she would be stubborn, and either way was it really fair to make someone else pay for her insanity?

He walked slowly back out front, arms still crossed on his chest, leaning against the threshold, looking out at Tallen propped up against the counter, chin in one hand, fingers drumming absently. He didn't appear impatient, more bemused, eyes focused on a far corner of the room before presumably feeling his stare and wandering over to him. The bemused expression was replaced by a small, friendly smile, “Hey.”

He nodded his head in return but remained silent. He knew Sophie was up to something but he didn't know what, or whether Tallen was involved or an unwilling victim like himself.

Tallen looked him over, frowning a little in concern. “You look tired,” he commented, “You okay?”

No, he wasn't and wouldn't be until he could get out of here. He nodded toward the same silver thermos sitting on the counter by his elbow, “You...want coffee?” his voice was little more than a shaking whisper; he hated how pathetic it must sound but he couldn't stop it.

Tallen chuckled, “Yeah, since your friend stole my first cup. She said she'll take care of the cost.” His expression darkened at that, again tempted to turn and leave, or better yet just go back home. Tallen gave him a sympathetic look. “Sorry,” he said and sounded like he meant it, “you know this wasn't my idea, right?”

He took a deep breath and slowly let it out, trying to clear his mind and calm it down. Whatever she was doing, Tallen was being roped in same as he was and there was no reason to take it out on him. He crossed to the counter and took hold of the thermos, pausing to think of something more polite to say. “...you're early,” was what came out of his mouth.

Tallen grinned, “Well, my schedule is kind of nuts right now, I've just been coming here whenever I have some free time.” And then he laughed a little nervously, “Of course, if I had known I'd be accosted as soon as I walked in, I might have waited until a little later in the day when I felt more awake.” Smiling, he gestured in the direction Sophie disappeared, “You have interesting friends.”

“I don't know about that,” he muttered to himself.

He hadn't thought it was loud enough for Tallen to hear, but he must have been paying close attention, “What do you mean?”

He meant the friends part, but chose not to say. He waited until his back was half turned before asking the question he currently dreaded most. “What was...that?...with Sophie?”

“Oh,” and Tallen gave that nervous laugh again, “Um, well, she told me a few...uh, interesting things, that I did not know.” A pause, “Like that I've apparently been drawing a lot more attention to myself here than I ever thought I was.” A glance to the side and he caught Tallen's bashful smile; he seemed more embarrassed by this than anything else. “I mean, I am used to being noticed, but still...a betting pool on me, that, uh...that's new. At least as far as I know.”

He rolled his eyes, trying to cling to his annoyance to cover his discomfort. “They have nothing better to do,” he muttered to himself.

Again Tallen heard and replied, “I'm sure. Pretty sad when gossiping about me is the most entertaining thing you got going.” He laughed, “Though I got to say, I do like my nickname. Much better than what the guys at work call me.”

He paused in spooning sugar into Tallen's coffee, turning to look at him. “I had nothing to do with that,” he assured quietly.

Tallen gave him a small smile, “Yeah I know, she told me. Not that I would have thought it anyway.”

He slowly brought the coffee back over, placing it on the counter and sliding it over. He dreaded knowing why exactly it was Sophie decided to outright tell Tallen something she had just yesterday expressed relief that he would never find out, but he had a feeling he really had no choice in the matter. Better to get it over with, and better Tallen than Sophie...maybe...probably. He took another deep breath, “...that it?”

“Uh...” Tallen gave a nervous laugh, running a hand through his hair, “no...no, that's not it.” A moment passed in silence while Tallen thought of what to say and his dread grew. “Last night apparently, she and the other key players in this whole stupid thing, got together and were talking on...um, I think it was some, some computer thing, but I don't really know anything about that... Anyway, they were talking and reached a decision, and I get the sense it was more her, um, Sophie, that decided this ahead of time and just twisted everyone's arms until they agreed, but...Yeah, well, since things didn't go the way they thought it would and no one actually won the bet, what they're going to do with the money is, they're going to give it to me. Provided of course, that I use it to - to take you out. On a date.”

It didn't really come as a surprise, but it still felt that way. He kept his arms crossed tightly, protectively over his chest and his eyes turned down. He didn't want to see the expression on Tallen's face, didn't want to be able to read his thoughts in his eyes, knowing what those thoughts must be

(I can't go through this again...it was too painful...)

He was talking before he consciously realized it, his voice so quiet, “I had nothing to do with...she got that in her head...I told her she was wrong...”

“Hey!” Tallen slid his hand across the counter until it was withing his sight. Not another word was said until he forced his gaze up, along that arm to meet those earnest green eyes. He spoke softly, sincerely, “She wasn't – wasn't wrong. I was...coming here, for you. To talk to you.”

That empty feeling from yesterday came over him again, his breathing sounded very loud in his ears. “You don't have to say that,” he mumbled, “just because she-”

“Hey,” Tallen interrupted firmly, “I wouldn't do that, okay. I wouldn't...” he sighed, looking equally uncomfortable, more frustrated than depressed. “I would have done this on my own, sooner, but that...well, I never see you.” He shrugged his shoulders, “That's one thing she was wrong about. This wasn't about working up my nerve...okay, a little bit that, but mostly...It just took that long to get you alone for five minutes where I could talk to you. Another week or so of this, I might have gotten myself lost back there looking for the restroom.” He smiled warmly, hoping for a response to his humor, but he just couldn't bring himself to make it this time.

Tallen glanced quickly over his shoulder and then looked back, clearing his throat. “Look, do you want to sit down with me and...talk, about this? I don't think we can keep hogging the register, and I'm assuming you don't want to deal with anyone else right now, right?”

Past Tallen, he could see Rachel and her customer that appeared to be finishing up (he could also see that Rachel was paying far too much attention to him, much to his dismay and growing annoyance). Again he was tempted to leave, to lock himself up in the office and not come out again; but that wouldn't end this, only delay it and he didn't think he could handle the stress of waiting for it to crop up again. He thought of taking Tallen in the back so they could have some privacy, get away from curious eyes; he wasn't so naive he didn't know what assumptions would come from that, just thinking about dealing with Sophie and the reaction she would have made his head hurt. Plus, he wasn't sure this was a conversation he wanted to have alone.

(I want to believe you...I do, I really do...but...)

(“You shouldn't have bothered.”)

(...but its so hard...)

He nodded his agreement, following Tallen back to the table and taking the seat Sophie had previously occupied. He kept his arms folded across his body, kept his head tilted down, allowing his hair to fall forward in his face, offering another wall of protection.

He spoke into the silence, “You don't have to...feel obligated to...just because she-”

“Hey,” he saw that hand wander into his vision again, “She just talked to me a few minutes. She didn't brainwash me, or blackmail me, or threaten me, or anything like that.”

(I want to believe you...)

“I don't think she'd do that, even if she does think you could really use a – uh, a night out. She wouldn't want anyone messing with your head like that. She made that pretty clear.”

He glanced up so he could see Tallen's face from in between strands of hair. “She...said that?”

Tallen nodded, “Oh yeah, I got all the standard threats.”

“Not...not that,” he said, “the...other thing.”

Tallen looked confused, “What other thing?”

He paused to let Rachel and the woman she was waiting on walk past, taking the opportunity to calm himself down, remember how to speak, what he wanted to say. “The other thing...me, needing a night out...she say that?”

“Oh. That,” Tallen's eyes shifted left, “Uh...close enough, yeah.”

He raised his head a little higher, shaking hair out of his eyes. “What did she say?” he asked again. He dreaded knowing, but at the moment it seemed a safer distraction.

Tallen looked uncomfortable, shaking his head, “Oh no, I don't want to...I'm sure she was kidding, and I don't want to get anyone killed here.”

That did not sound good, and anger at Sophie was easier to deal with. “What did she say?” he repeated, his voice coming steady now.

Tallen took a long drink of his coffee, before dropping his forehead into his hand propped on the table. Again, his coat sleeve pulled downward and he caught sight of black lines curling around Tallen's wrist. Slowly, quietly, Tallen mumbled his answer, “She said...she said that I should use the money to book a hotel with good room service and keep you there all weekend because you've needed to get laid for like a decade.”

That was well beyond his lowest expectations. He whipped his head around to look for Sophie but didn't see her; just as well, he may have actually killed her had she been there. “I do not,” he could hear the quiet outrage in his voice.

“I know,” Tallen was giving him that earnest look again, holding his hands up, trying to be comforting. “I know that, I'm not saying that at all. And like I said, I think she was kidding.”

He wasn't so sure she had been, and either way it was not a thought she should have shared. Especially not with Tallen.

“But, if I may use this to my advantage,” and that warm smile crept back over Tallen's face; he did love seeing that there.

(always had a beautiful smile...good to see it back again...)

“The only thing I'm asking for,” he continued, “is dinner. In comparison, that must seem like a very small thing, very safe thing. So much so that, why not just do it, right? I mean, why not, right?”

He felt a small smile curving his lips; he ducked his head hoping to hide it behind his hair but he thought Tallen saw anyway.

He opened his mouth, to say what he wasn't sure, but Tallen held up a hand to stop him. “Wait. Before you say anything, I got one more.”

His mouth fell closed, waiting patiently.

“So,” Tallen shifted closer to him, leaning forward on the table, smiling his easy going smile, “as far as I know, this whole betting thing, its been going on for a couple months, right? So, a couple months all these people are here, wondering what I'm trolling after, and not once, in all that time, does it dawn on anyone to consider you as an option.” His golden eyebrows rose a fraction in disbelief, his hands moving animatedly as he spoke. “And why not, right? Three people working here, three options, seems real simple to me. And yet they completely forgot all about you, like you didn't even exist. And again, why is that? I mean, you're young, you're as good looking as either of those girls.” He winked one green eye, smiling brightly, “Much, much more so, in my admittedly biased opinion. But either way, no reason to be left out like that.” Tallen sat back, folding his arms on his chest, trying to look thoughtful, serious. “If it were me, I'd be insulted,” he said, “I'd probably want some sort of revenge, or something to make sure they know not to just discount me like that again. And you know, I can't think of any better way to do that than to take their money and run out with the handsome stranger, have a good time on their coin.” He grinned, “Think how pissed they'll be. And serves them right, too.”

He was smiling in spite of himself, however uncomfortable he still was he was helpless to stop it. He sorely appreciated Tallen's efforts at relaxing him, even more so that it actually worked. “So, I should go with you...”

“For vengeance,” and Tallen snorted laugher, reaching for his thermos.

He couldn't help it that time, he had to laugh for the sheer ridiculousness of that idea (and in relief at the hopeful mind it must have sprung from). It was more a kinetic laugh than an audible one, a subtle shaking of his torso while he shyly ducked his head to hide his smile.

Again, Tallen caught it. “Oh wow, look at that, I made you laugh,” he could hear that warm smile in the man's voice. “That's got to be a good sign. Am I winning you over?”

He raised his head, letting his hair fall back from his face to meet that smile he had known was there, bright as a summer sun on a winter day. And the longer it remained, his dread began to fade away and a quiet sort of hope took its place.

(convince me...I want to believe you...)

The smile slowly faded from Tallen's face as the silence dragged on, replaced by a solemn look. “I'm sorry,” he said again, holding his hands out in front of him. “This is not how I wanted to do this, really. I didn't want to make a big spectacle out of this, and I didn't...I didn't want to give you any reason to doubt that I meant it.” That same look he remembered seeing a few times yesterday passed through Tallen's eyes again, but this time it lingered long enough for him to recognize the pain in it.

(“I'm sorry” … “I never meant to hurt you.”)

Tallen's hand slid across the table, coming to a stop right in front of where he sat. Those fingers tapped and twitched a few times, as though they wanted to keep going, to reach out and touch him, like it took some effort to suppress that instinct. He stared down at those familiar hands, feeling a faint urge to put his own hand over it.

(never would have hesitated...gods, I hate this...)

“I probably shouldn't have followed you back inside yesterday,” Tallen continued, “that was probably a mistake, but its done now. And when she – uh, Sophie, confronted me about this, and told me she had already talked to you about it, I...” He paused, running his hand through his hair, leaving the other where it had been just out of touching range, “It was like I got backed into a corner and given this perfect opportunity, too. With offering me the money, laying the groundwork out, it seemed like a good time-” he cut off, shaking his head in frustration; when he spoke again, he seemed to be talking to himself, “Maybe I shouldn't have, maybe I should have kept on doing what I-”

He watched that hand curl into a loose fist briefly before spreading out again, fingers just slightly bent, index tapping idly. The hand appeared smooth and flawless for the most part, nails short and clean, fingers uncalloused. He moved his gaze upward to meet Tallen's pine green eyes that were looking back at him. Those eyes were, in this moment, open and unguarded; there was a hard edge to them that was noticeable but not overwhelmingly so, there was still humanity visible there, there was still kindness in him that still eclipsed all else.

(its not the same...he's not the same...)

Tallen mentally pulled himself back together, eyes shifting right, downward, “I know I don't,” his voice was much lower than it had been before, “I don't deserve...anything. But...” he shook his head, eyes shifting back up to meet his own. Tallen's mouth worked, he seemed to be thinking of what to say before settling for simple; a shrug of his shoulders and a small smile. “Give me a chance,” he reasoned, “Let me fix this. I'll show you – I'll prove that...” he smiled again with a subtle shake of his head, “You won't regret it. I won't let you. Promise.”

(“I don't want it to be too late” … “Let me fix this...give me a chance” … “I won't – won't fuck it up, not this time, I promise...”)

(a single bloodshot eye starring up desperately out of a ruined face...how he could speak through so much pain, through broken bones, lacerations, so much swelling?...his body is shaking with the effort, to stay awake, to get this out...its that more than anything, that makes you think – makes him seem so...)

(gods within, I want to believe you...)

Oddly maybe, it was Sophie's words from yesterday that came back to him then, in that moment where the silence seemed to stretch on forever. I'd give him an honest chance, sure. No reason not to. As angry as he wanted to be with her, right now she was beginning to sound like the voice of reason.

(she tells you what you want to hear...you need an excuse; take it, run...)

Truthfully, it hadn't been so bad spending time with Tallen. Tallen was nice and polite, like Sophie had said, but more importantly he could talk to him, he found a degree of comfort with him that was hard to come by. More importantly, Tallen was laid back and patient, never pushing for more than he wanted to give, more than he could give. That was a rare quality, people tended to respond to him with confusion, with impatience and occasionally with insult; they were used to people who were open, friendly, social, like they themselves were, anything less was quickly dismissed as not worth the effort. Sophie tried, but he too frequently had to remind himself that he appreciated that effort, which often felt more like indulgence when he didn't respond to her the way she thought he should. She treated him like she would anyone else; Tallen seemed to be figuring out how he wanted to be treated and went from there. That made all the difference.

If everything could be like it was yesterday, out there in the alley...that might not be so bad. Even here, this was hard, but...he's done everything to make it less so. If it could be...if it could stay... like it was...if I could...have that back...

(things are different...or they were different, then...take the excuse, run with it...)

“Is there any way,” he finally responded in his usual quiet voice, keeping his eyes fixed on Tallen's apprehensive face, “any way I can...meet you, somewhere else?”

Tallen blinked at him a few times, and he realized the man had again been fully expecting a rejection, so much so that he couldn't understand at first when it didn't come. That pensive expression vanished and a small, tentative smile took its place. “Uh...no, no I don't think so. I think they're needing me to pick you up here.” He shrugged apologetically, still grinning, “I'd argue it, but I do see the logic. Its not like they really know me, why would they just hand me a pile of coin and hope I do what I'm supposed to be doing with it?” He shrugged again, “If it helps, I can get you out of here before they torture you too much. I am good for that.”

He nodded; it did help.

Tallen's grin grew by a fraction, his eyes hopeful, “So, does that mean...?”

He nodded again, pulling up his words. “Dinner sounds nice...for a chance.”

That smile spread from ear to ear, he didn't think he had ever seen anyone look so genuinely happy. “All right!” he exclaimed, laughing, “Wow, I didn't think you'd say yes, not this soon anyway.” And he glanced around self consciously, as if suddenly remembering where he was, “And I sound like an idiot now, don't I?”

He shook his head, “I'm glad you're happy,” he said and hoped it was comforting.

Tallen beamed, his eyes dancing, “I am, thank you.” he shook his head in wonder, “You...you are something else, you know that?”

He nodded his head slowly. “Yes, I know,” he responded quietly.

A moment passed in silence while Tallen watched him fondly and he experienced no discomfort at the close scrutiny. “So, dinner,” Tallen finally said, “And...well, I feel like I should offer a movie, too, that is sort of the package deal, right? But...” and he looked embarrassed, running his hand through his hair in a familiar nervous gesture, “I actually have no idea what's playing right now. That's just not the sort of thing I keep up with, you know?”

He shrugged, “Its okay. I don't know either.”

Tallen looked relieved, “Oh good, so I guess I don't look weird to you.” He laughed, “So, when do you get off work?”

He thought about that, “I can leave as early as five.”

Tallen nodded, “Okay, I can be back here then to pick you up if you want,” he said, “I don't have a whole lot to do today, just a few people I got to talk to. So I should still be in good shape by the end of the day. Maybe a little aggravated, but nothing that won't go away quick enough,” and he smiled easily, reassuringly.

He nodded, “Okay.”

“I can work out the details during the day,” Tallen offered, “If that's okay with you?”

He nodded again, “Whatever you want.” Having never considered this possibility he had no particular expectations, and he instinctively trusted Tallen to avoid anything he would find too unpleasant or unbearable.

“All right,” Tallen's hand moved, retreating back across the table and wrapping it around his thermos. The other hand grabbed the messenger bag from yesterday that was draped over his chair. “I probably ought to take off then,” he was saying, “Make sure I get everything done as quick as I can.” he glanced up from slinging the bag over his shoulder, eyebrows raised questioningly, “That's okay with you, right?”

He nodded slowly, “I have...” he gestured vaguely over his shoulder, toward the back.

Tallen caught his meaning, “Ah, yeah, I'm sure you do.” He gave him a concerned look, “You'll, uh, be all right back there, right?”

He caught that meaning easily enough, “The...door, it locks,” and he gave a small smile, oddly happy that the question was asked.

Tallen laughed a little, “Oh, okay, good. Hate to come back here and find you all stressed out thanks to well meaning but misguided friends.”

He sat back in his chair, arms still folded on his chest but more loosely now than at the start, watching Tallen stand and straighten himself out. Again, he felt happy at the observation made.

Tallen looked up at him, “So, see you at five, right?” He nodded and got a grin in return, “All right, you have a good day then, Frost.”

Tallen reached a hand out toward him; he wondered if the man wanted to shake again, but the angle seemed wrong, too high for that. It came within a foot of his head before stopping abruptly, Tallen's eyes filling with alarm, seeming shocked by the move. He realized Tallen was going to touch his face, lay his hand on his cheek, run fingers through his hair, brushing it back from his eyes...or something like that. Tallen's hand hovered uncertainty in the air before his fingers curled and the hand retreated, slipping hesitantly into a coat pocket. Tallen's green eyes spoke wordless apologies; he hoped he conveyed forgiveness...if forgiveness was what was called for here, he wasn't sure that it was but he didn't know what else to do.

Satisfied with whatever he saw there, Tallen turned to leave. Before he reached the door, seemingly out of nowhere, Sophie bounced (yes, dear gods, bounced) in front of him. She stared up at him with wide, hopeful, questioning eyes; Tallen looked back at her a moment before giving her a big grin and a thumbs up.

Sophie gave a squeal (yes, dear gods, a squeal), jumping up and down once and looking so very frighteningly excited. That was all he really needed to see; he stood quietly from the table, hoping and praying not to draw attention to himself, turned and moved back toward his safe haven. He couldn't count on Sophie being occupied with Tallen for long being as how he was the one she really wanted; he had to be quick.

He had just closed and locked the door not one minute ago, when he heard what sounded like a barely one hundred pound weight slam up against it; almost as though she thought she could just walk right in, as though he would have left it open. A moment passed, and she knocked quietly and politely; he leaned back against the desk, folded his arms and waited.

Another moment and she banged her fist on it in frustration, “I know you can hear me, Frost,” her voice came through muffled but audible; he could picture her standing there with narrowed eyes, one hand on her hip, the other pointed at the door. “And you can't hide from me in there all day. Sooner or later, you will have to come out, for food, for the bathroom, for something. And when you do, I will be here waiting for you, mark my words.” He heard two light taps, that pointed finger gesturing for emphasis against the door; didn't matter that he couldn't see, she knew he knew anyway.

He felt himself smirk at her threats, idly wondering if she could sense it from him and frankly doubting it. Truth was, he didn't have to do anything, not if he didn't want to, not for a good long time anyway. If she thought she could out wait him, she was sorely mistaken.

He sat down at the desk and tried to turn his mind toward work. But it was impossible to keep from idly straying back to the events of the last two days. He thought over and over, and by the end of it he still wasn't sure if he was glad he knew Sophie or not.