"So what can I getcha." Feliks asks, though he's sure he already knows the answer. Coffee, it's always coffee. Café Callisto is famous for it after all, being one of the few cafés that actually imports it all the way from Earth. Feliks doesn't think it tastes all that different from the stuff they grow on the Saturn colonies, but the novelty of it draws a paying crowd, so he can't complain.

"Coffee, please. I'm usually more of a tea man myself, but I suppose coffee makes me nostalgic for Earth." The man says, folding a fashionable jacket beside him as he settles into a booth.

Feliks forgets to mentally congratulate himself on his clairvoyance, and instead is intrigued by the man. Which is an odd thing in of itself. Interacting with hundreds of customers day in, day out, gets tiring, so sometimes he feels the need to purposely avoid starting a conversation. But a genuine Earthling in this corner of the solar system, looking, well, comfortably middle class ? That is strange.

"Oh, an Earthling, huh. So how did you get all the way out here ?" Feliks asks, retrieving the menu with a 'For customers with one stomach' sticker on the back from the table.

"I'm the captain of a cargo ship - The Black Shuck. My job brings me all sorts of places." There's no gloating in the man's tone, he speaks like interstellar travel is mundane, like it isn't unusual to see a bonafide Earthling make it off that decaying blue rock and into the stars. There is, however, a glint in his eye that says he's proud, and maybe even a little amazed at his own accomplishments.

"Arthur Kirkland, by the way." he adds, extending his hand.

"Feliks." comes the reply. It should have been obvious by his name tag, but there's no skipping of pleasantries, and he accepts Arthur's hand. "So just coffee, right ?"

"Just coffee, please."

Feliks turns to fetch a fresh pot , but before he makes it even as far as the counter, Arthur speaks up from behind him.

"May I ask you an odd question ?"

"Go for it." Any question that needs permission to be asked is almost certain to be an uncomfortable one, but Feliks agrees despite his skepticism. He can't be rude to his patrons, after all.

"Would you know anyone looking for a job in transport ? I'm in need of a new crew." It's a question that comes out of nowhere, but he truly is desperate. The nearest employment agency he knows of is three days spaceflight away, and he's not exactly transporting the sort of products that a legitimate crew would want to involve themselves with either. His only hope is that an earlier customer may have mentioned something to Feliks in passing.

Feliks snorts. He doesn't mean to, and it's certainly no way to treat a customer, but it's just that it's not what he was expecting to hear. "So what, did your crew stage a mutiny ?"

"No, nothing that serious." A lie. Francis, Matthew, and Michelle called it quits after a close call transporting some illicit goodsto a less than savoury bar on Earth, and decided to go back to their ordinary lives on Europa.

Arthur reacts quickly to change the topic before Feliks has a chance to read further into it. "So that menu," he begins, gesturing towards Feliks. "Any food as exotic as Earth coffee in there ?"

"Nah," Feliks shakes his head, almost disappointed. "People come from all around for the coffee, so we never really needed to invest in anything else, you know. Besides, there are some things even a famous café can't get hold of. "

"Oh, like what."

Feliks almost regrets saying anything. He gets the feeling that he's going to say too much. With strangers, he usually only makes small talk. It's not that he forces himself to hold back, it's just that it takes a while to feel comfortable enough for the conversation to flow freely. But he only almost regrets it.

"It's pretty silly." he says, testing the waters.

"I'm sure it isn't."

"No, I mean it's a really stupid thing for me to care about."

"Feliks, I'm sure -"

"Pomegranates." he blurts out. "Pomegranates. I've always really wanted to try them because my Grandmother always used to talk about the pomegranate tart her Aunt used to make back on Earth, and it always looked so good in the pictures. But they don't grow here or on any of the colonies, and they're so scarce that they're not exported. So yeah, pomegranates." He could go on, but he's spoken so rapidly that he's almost out of breath, and he's sure he's embarrassed himself enough as it is.

Arthur doesn't laugh at him, and for that much Feliks is grateful. But he does smile at him strangely, and Feliks is sure that it's an attempt to disguise his laughter.

"Look, I told you it was stupid, you don't have to make a face."

"I'm not making a face, I'm . . ." Arthur struggles to think of an acceptable phrasing. "Admiring your passion."

"Yeah, right" Feliks replies sarcastically, finally leaving to get the coffee pot.

"No really, I am interested." Arthur says, and he truly means it. He rises from the booth to follow Feliks, and sets himself down at the counter. "Tell me, what else are you passionate about ?"


It's been months since Arthur Kirkland walked into the cafe, ordered only one coffee but sat for four hours. Feliks still thinks about him, now and then. After all, how could he forget one of the few occasions where Elizabeta actually had to threaten to dock his pay if he didn't stop talking to a customer and get back to work. She was joking of course, well at least he thinks she was.

Arthur still frequents his thoughts, but his mind is solely on work when Elizabeta tells him to sign for the deliveries.

The deliveryman is a blond, pretty, and definitely not the sort of person Feliks would have imagined to be making long haul flights throughout the solar system. Though he supposes that anyone with even the slightest bit of wanderlust would settle down into the job for the sightseeing opportunities.

"Feliks, I presume ?" The man says, and Feliks nods in reply. "There's a package for you around the back. "

The man heads towards the cargo hold, and Feliks follows him, no questions asked. He should probably be more cautious, but the deliveryman has a trustworthy face.

The roof of the cargo hold goes far higher than he imagined, and each step he takes echoes; reminding him of cathedrals. Pallets are stacked high, extending as far back as he can see, some things he recognises as their own orders, most of the rest is boxed away and he can't be sure what's inside.

The deliveryman clears his throat and it's only then that Feliks realises that he's been standing around staring while the man retrieved a crate for him. He quickly shakes off his wonderment and rushes forward to accept.

The weight of it is unexpected and his arms almost give out, but it's the words scrawled on top of the crate that shock him the most.

Feliks, sorry for the wait, but it's taken me a while to track these down - Arthur.

Awed, Feliks says nothing. Surely Arthur didn't go to all that trouble for him, all because of one silly little conversation ? But . . .

"Don't just stand there, open it." The deliveryman says. "I'm expected to relay your reaction."

Feliks rests the crate on the ground and drops to his knees in front of it. Tearing it open, he tries to ready himself for disappointment. It won't be what he's wishing for, it won't be something magical, it won't be -

"Pomegranates." He could almost cry. A stranger, a complete and utter stranger just waltzed into his life for the best part of an afternoon and has just given him the most amazing gift anyone has ever received.
He knows right then and there that he'll never be able to properly thank Arthur Kirkland, and he knows he'll never be able to forget Arthur Kirkland.


A/N
Callisto and Europa are two of Jupiter's moons, which actually have the potential for colonization (!) So Callisto where this is of potential or not, this fic is set in a future where the terraforming and colonization of most of our solar system has already taken place.

It didn't come up in the fic, but I imagined Feliks having grown up on Callisto, and never having stepped a foot of it.

I decided to look up names in English folklore & mythology to find a name for Arthur's ship and I discovered The Black Shuck, which is a ghostly dog that is said to roam the English countryside. Other than having a great name, I decided to choose it because the wiki article I read mentioned the book Snarleyyow, or the Dog Fiend. Google tells me that the dog in this book is the companion to a ship commander that hunts for smugglers. I just thought this was a funny coincidence given Arthur's profession in the story.