Title: The Coffee Shop

Summary: Ten years after his adventure in New York City, Kevin has an unexpected encounter with someone he was certain he had seen the last of. (Three-part fanfic)

Rating: T (for language, brief violence and mature discussions)

Disclaimer(s): "Home Alone" and its characters do not belong to me. I make no profit from these writings. Cover art courtesy of Iamnee at FreeDigitalPhotosDOTnet.

PART I:

Two Creams, Two Sugars

Kevin McCallister thought for sure that he would have been used to these frigid temperatures by now after having lived in Chicago almost his entire life, but the brutal cold never got any easier. He always hated having to wear multiple layers of clothing; it made mobility a bit of an issue. Clenching his teeth, he pulled his scarf tighter around his neck as a gust of wind slapped him sharply in the face. He walked to the edge of the sidewalk and stopped, waiting for the signal to change so that he could cross the street. He jumped when he felt his cell phone vibrate in his pocket, grumbling as he started to fish for it. Seeing his mother's name on the ID, he flipped the phone open and placed it to his ear.

"Hey, Mom," he said.

"Kevin, honey, where are you? I thought you were having dinner with the family tonight."

The young man winced with guilt. "I know. I've been sort of scatterbrained today. I've been running errands all day. Not only that, I've got a few assignments that I need to get cracking on."

"Are you going to be able to make it tonight?"

Kevin sighed. "No, I don't think I am. I'm sorry. I should have called earlier."

"Well…should I make you a plate?"

"Nah. I don't think I'll be over at all to pick it up. I'll be over next weekend, I promise. Nothing'll stand in my way next weekend."

"Well, look, I don't want you to ignore your schoolwork. Christmas is just around the corner, so we'll be together then. Until then, you focus on your classes."

"All right, I gotcha, Mom."

"All right, I love you, sweetie."

"Love you, too, Mom. Bye." With that, Kevin flipped the phone shut and shoved it into his pocket, sighing guiltily. His mother practically depended on him to come home every week for dinner, or at the very least, every other week. Buzz rarely made it over since he had gotten married and moved out of town, and Linnie was hardly ever heard from since she started attending law school. Jeff and Megan made it by occasionally, but between work and relationships, they were both pretty distracted as well.

Kevin had been the last to move out of the house, and his departure was easily the most emotional for his mother. As long as there was still one child living in the house, it was easier for her to deal with the pain of seeing her other children leave the nest, but once Kevin was gone, it was much harder. But she took comfort in knowing that he was only living a short distance from home. Kevin himself really couldn't fathom the idea of living hours away from his parents, and in actuality, it was best that at least one child was living close by in case he was ever needed for something.

Still standing at the edge of the sidewalk, Kevin glared up at the red hand that signaled for him to stay put. "Hurry up," he growled as he stuffed his gloved hands into his pockets, desperate for warmth. Squinting through the harsh winds, he spotted a coffee shop across the street, just a short distance off to the left, which made him all the more eager for the signal to change. He could really use a cup of coffee right about now.

The red hand changed to a green walking man and Kevin practically dashed across the street. "Coffee, coffee, coffee," he chanted over and over again eagerly as he marched up the sidewalk towards the little coffee shop. Coffee had become to Kevin at twenty what cheese pizza had been to him at eight. Now in college and awake at all hours of the night sometimes, coffee was practically his lifeline, but right now he just needed something hot in his system to counterbalance the cold.

Grabbing the handle, Kevin yanked the door open, a string of bells jingling loudly as they banged against the glass to signal his arrival. He sighed happily as the warmth of the shop enveloped him, making his frozen fingers tingle slightly. The warmth was accompanied by the strong, appealing aroma of coffee, which made him more eager to get his hands on the hot beverage. He noticed a man working behind the counter with his back turned to him.

"Be with ya in a minute, buddy," he said in a voice that sounded oddly familiar to the twenty-year-old. Kevin took his seat on one of the stools in front of the counter, pulling off his gloves and setting them aside.

"Better brace yourself when you leave tonight," the younger man said as he unraveled the scarf from around his neck. "You wouldn't believe how cold it is out there."

"Oh yeah, I would. I've lived in Chicago a long time, pal. I know how cold it gets."

Damn, that voice sounded so familiar.

"I feel like that little kid in "A Christmas Story" with all this gear on," Kevin laughed as he managed to wiggle out of his heavy coat. "I can barely move."
The man gave a short chuckle, finally turning around to serve him. His expression was calm and relaxed when he first caught his eye, but within seconds after taking in the young man's features, the corners of his lips fell into a deep frown and his eyes widened. Kevin's expression wasn't much different.

"Holy crap," the two said in unison.

"This world just keeps getting smaller and smaller," said Kevin, not looking at all threatened by the man's presence. He looked more amused than anything else.
The elder man shook his head in disgust, one hand tightening into a fist. "This isn't funny anymore. Where the hell do you keep coming from?"

"I live here, remember? I think it was inevitable that you were going to see me again at some point." The blond leaned his head against his hand. "You know, it's so weird….Just last week, I was wondering what Larry and Curly were up to."

"Shut up, you little twerp, or I'll pop you in the mouth," the man snarled as he leaned over the counter threateningly, but he quickly shook his head, turning away. "Nah, nuh-ungh, you ain't worth it anymore," he said, wagging a finger. "I ain't gonna waste one iota of energy on you."

"Wow. Did you just use the word, 'Iota' correctly in a sentence? I'm impressed. Now can you spell it?"

"You can push my buttons all ya want, but I ain't touchin' ya. Just forget it."

"Aww, I'm hurt, Harry."

Harry placed one hand on the counter and leaned into it casually. "Here's how it's going to be, you little creep: you don't talk to me, and I don't spit in your coffee. How's that?"

Kevin shrugged. "Whatever you say."

"Good, now what'd you want?" the man snapped, that raging urge for revenge still twinkling in his eyes.

"Just a regular. Two creams, two sugars."

Harry busied himself behind the counter with preparing the coffee, while Kevin sat by idly, silently watching him with heightened curiosity. He certainly didn't look how he had always remembered him. With a nicely tailored, long-sleeved, navy blue shirt and no winter cap on, he hardly recognized him. The sleek nametag that was pinned to his shirt only added to the oddity of his appearance.

"All right, here," the man snapped as he placed a lid over the cup and thrust it in the younger man's face. Kevin took it hesitantly, staring straight at the man with a raised brow. "It's in a To Go cup so you can get the hell out of here."

Kevin smirked as he plucked the lid from the cup. "Oh no," he said playfully. "I'm quite comfortable here." He blew a puff of steam into the man's face and took a careful sip. He winced slightly as the hot liquid slid down his throat and settled into his stomach. "Well, you suck as a criminal, but you make pretty good coffee." Kevin's smirk only grew as he saw Harry's jaw clench irritably. This was fun.

"We're closing," the man snarled.

"Nice try, but I saw the sign out front. You're open until nine. I've still got a good two hours of sitting here and annoying you."

Harry growled as he grabbed a rag and started wiping the counter down, though he had just wiped it down ten minutes prior to Kevin's arrival.

"So…"

"I said don't talk," Harry snapped.

"When did you get out of prison?" Kevin continued, ignoring his protest.

"Shut. Up."

"C'mon, I'm just making friendly conversation."

"I'd sooner take a blowtorch to the head."

"Seriously."

Harry rolled his eyes, sighing in defeat. "I got out a year ago on good behavior."

Kevin nodded, looking down into the still steaming beverage. "And Marv? Where'd he go? Or is he still in prison?"

Harry shook his head, turning his back completely to the younger male. "Dead."

Kevin raised his brows, surprised to hear this. "What happened?"

Harry bent down and pulled an unopened bag of coffee cups out from underneath the counter. "Lotta fights break out in prison. Marv got caught up in the middle of one in the rec yard, the idiot. He was never any good in a fight, and he didn't stand a chance against that guy. By the time they managed to pull the guy off 'im, he had already done too much damage. He died two days later from head trauma."

Kevin frowned as he lifted the cup to his lips to take another sip. He swallowed slowly. "Sorry."

"Why? You didn't kill him," Harry snapped, stacking the cups.

"I know, I just…I.." Kevin stumbled over his words, unsure of how to respond. Looking closely at the former bandit, he could see just the smallest hint of pain in his eyes, though he was futilely trying to mask it, which wasn't a surprise to him. But clearly he had cared about him, even if he had always pushed him around. He was probably the only friend he had. "When did it happen?"

"Two years before I was released." The man shook his head, smirking. "It's amazing…he could survive four bricks to the head, but he couldn't handle getting the crap beat out of him."

Kevin tapped his finger anxiously against his cup as he racked his brain for a new question, preferably one that didn't involve Marv. "When did you start working here?"

"What is this? Twenty Questions?"

Kevin sighed, turning his head towards the bathroom doors on the right.

"I started working here almost a year ago," Harry finally answered after a short pause. Kevin turned back to him.

"Forgive me, but…how exactly were you able to get this job?"

Harry snorted. "You think this was the first job I tried for? Forget about it. If I had a dollar for every job that turned me away, I wouldn't need to be working here. Getting a job ain't easy when you're an ex-con. Had I been a one time offender, I may have gotten some slack, but with all the robberies under my belt and my escaping from prison, it was just one turn away after another."

"So what was different about this place?"

Harry shrugged as he desperately tried to find something to busy himself with. "The guy who owns the place says he's real big on cutting people a break. I remember the day when I first walked into this place to ask for a job. I hadn't slept or bathed, so I wasn't a pretty sight when I stumbled through that door. I just looked the guy in the eye and told him he had no good reason give me this job, but I promised I'd work my ass off and never give him any lip. I think he finally took pity on me when I told him I wasn't livin' anywhere.

"What he did next really floored me. He pulled out his wallet and handed me thirty bucks, and then tells me to go buy myself something hot to eat."

"Sounds like a nice guy."

"Yeah, he is. You don't expect that kind of generosity in anyone anymore, but that didn't mean he wasn't cautious 'bout me. During my shifts, he always made sure my co-worker Jason was working with me."

"Jason?"

"Not a guy to be messed with. He's a lot taller than I am and could probably flip a car if he had a mind to. If I even thought about swiping the cash in that register, I'd be on the floor in a second."

"So…where is he now?"

"After about six months, Carl came around to trusting me."

"Your boss?"

"Yeah."

"I don't know…that sounds kind of foolish."

"Yeah, maybe it is. But Carl is Carl. He does things his way and takes his chances. And I swore to him I wasn't going to do anything to make him regret hiring me. Sure, promising something doesn't really mean much, but it was all I could give him. And I meant it, too. I ain't going back to prison. Ain't no way in Hell I'm goin' back there."

Kevin suddenly looked amused. "You know, prison usually hardens people, but in your case, it looks as though it mellowed you out."

Harry found the broom and set to work at sweeping the floor. "You don't want to know the kind of folks that end up in prison, kid. You think I was bad? Please. I hung around with guys that made me wanna huddle in a corner. Baby rapers…serial killers…psychos…you name it. And they bragged about it, too. I remember one guy who went on and on about how he sexually assaulted his ex-girlfriend, and then raped her eight-year-old daughter in the next room while the mother was bound and gagged."

Kevin winced. "Stop," he said desperately, shaking his head.

Harry shot a quick glance in the younger man's direction before returning his attention to the floor. "Yeah, I didn't like listenin' to it, either. Eventually I got tired of the guy yammering on and on, and I finally put his face in a wall. He didn't open his fat trap after that. But that's the kind of crap I had to listen to for nine years. It gets to ya after a while. I thought I would have learned to just tune it out, but I couldn't, and I don't ever wanna be surrounded by guys like that again. It's enough to make you wanna kill yourself, and I lost count of how many times I thought about doing just that. No amount of money is worth being stuck in that hell hole. And it's for that reason that your throat isn't in my hands right now."

Kevin took a moment to absorb those words. "Well…at least you can take pride in knowing you learned from the experience. Not too many people come out of prison a better person."

"Better person? Yeah, and not too many people would agree with you, kid. I got one two many crimes on my record, and people don't let you forget it, either."
Kevin glanced down at the counter as his mind drifted for a moment. He smiled faintly as the familiar image of a woman entered his mind, homely-looking in her attire and shoulders and head serving as perches for pigeons.

"You know…a good friend of mine once told me a good deed erases a bad one."

Harry halted his actions, resting the palm of his hand on the top of the broomstick as he eyed the blond with a scrutinizing gaze. "Oh yeah? If a guy murders a family, and then helps a little ol' lady across the street, is he forgiven of his crime?"

The younger man's face instantly fell. "Well…no. I'm talking more along the lines of smaller offenses…Wait, are you equating yourself with a murderer? You never killed anyone."

The man smirked. "I almost killed you, remember?"

Kevin shrugged, waving a hand dismissively. "Ah, that's no big deal. I did sort of give you a hard time," he replied, returning the smirk. "I would have wanted to kill me, too." Kevin lifted his cup to his lips and took another long sip. Setting the cup down, he looked at the elder man sympathetically. "Look, you're right, not too many people are going to look at you as anything other than a criminal, regardless of whether or not you did your time and no longer cause trouble. It sucks, but that's the way it is. But not everyone's like that. The fact that you're in this coffee shop, earning honest money is proof of that."

Harry simply stared at the young man for a long moment before setting the broom aside, and then walking over to the cash register. "That's gonna be a dollar fifty," he said curtly.

Kevin reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, slipping out a five. He slid it across the counter, smiling. "Keep the change."

Harry glanced at the blond out of the corner of his eye before punching a few buttons on the register, and then opening the container to slip the bill inside. Kevin began redressing himself in his winter garb. "Well…I better get goin'. My homework's not gonna do itself."

Sliding off the stool, Kevin grabbed his half-drunk cup of coffee and made his way for the door. "See ya," he said on his way out, nodding over his shoulder at the man, who stood silently as he watched him leave.

"What the hell?" he finally said after a long pause.

Author's Note: My first fanfic of the year! This story turned out to be nearly 3 times the length I originally thought it was going to be. I don't like overwhelming readers with insanely long chapters, so the story has been split into three parts.

Hope you enjoy.