A/N: Ladies and gentleman, my first (but certainly not last) Hero's Cuties AU story! Note: This is no way connected to fix-it-feesh's amazing collection of stories, but I do want to give her credit for helping design and create the perfect world that made this AU what it really is. Also, Q*Bert the cat belongs completely to her.
The story may seem a little drabble-y at times, but that was intentional. I wanted this to seem as realistic (and somewhat awkward) as possible. Also, I hope to make this a series, which is why I touch up on a few points, but don't get too into them in the story. And sorry for the lack of cuteness. I totally didn't notice till after I wrote it.
Thanks so much for reading!
Disclaimer: I do not own Wreck-It Ralph or any of its characters.
Bracing herself, Tamora breathed out as she continued standing in front of the apartment she had asked directions to minutes earlier. Her feet shuffled on the welcome mat, as she considered her next move.
Finally, she raised her hand, afraid he might pop out at any given moment to fix something in another apartment, and catch her standing there, which would be far more awkward than just her visiting.
She wrapped her knuckles on the door and waited, clutching the only thing she brought along with her.
"Who is it?" Felix's ever cheery voice called from behind the wood.
She cleared her throat. "It's Tamora." There was a pause and she quickly realized, though they'd know each other for well over a month now, they weren't exactly on a first name basis yet. Not her's, anyway.
"From 4D," She quickly added.
"Oh!" There was shuffling behind the door. It almost sounded like he were racing to the door, resulting in tripping over a few things in the process, but she was sure was just hearing things.
The chainlock jingled as he moved it away and opened the door. "Miss Calhoun," He smiled brightly. "What brings you here? Trouble with the sink again?"
He grabbed for his toolbox, eagerly ready to help, when she quickly spoke up, halting his actions. "The sink is fine," She answered. "I actually just came over to bring you some coffee." She lifted up the thermos she had brought with her. "As a thank you for fixing my sink."
It was long overdue, since he had fixed her sink over a week ago. Not to mention every other appliance that needed looking at ever since she moved to the apartment building. But hospitality really wasn't her strong point.
"That's mighty kind of you, ma'am," He grinned, opening the door a little wider. "Would you like to come in?"
She peered in nervously. It had taken her this long just to get up the courage to being him coffee. In fact, she purposely bought a new thermos, just so she could drop it off and not think about this ever again.
She was a fool to think Felix wouldn't be friendly enough to invite her inside.
"Unless you're busy," He said, his confidence wavering.
"I'm not busy," She answered, simply. He smiled again and finally accepting his offer, she stepped inside.
Upon quick observation, she noticed it was about the same size as her's. She didn't expect an apartment to feel so comfortable. When she took off her shoes - something she really didn't want to do, as that implied staying long, but he asked nicely - she immediately spotted the big difference between his and her apartment.
"Carpet," She simply noted, her feet sinking into the softness. Her entire apartment was either tiled or just hardwood floors. She didn't mind it, of course. In fact, she preferred it, knowing carpet involved much more of an upkeep than wood did.
"You like it?" He asked, pulling a couple mugs from his cupboard.
She looked down to answer his question properly. It was white, definitely not her first choice, but it looked like he took good care of it. Thankfully, it stopped right at the kitchen line, so she didn't have to worry about spilling coffee on it.
"Do a lot of the apartments come with carpeting?"
He chuckled. "No, ma'am, I had that put in myself."
She nodded, letting the subject drop. Home improvement wasn't one of her favorite subjects, but she knew he liked talking about it, so brought it up whenever she could, to avoid any awkward silences.
Suddenly, something snaked around her ankles. She yelped, reaching for her belt, as an instinct, when she used to keep a pistol there.
Felix laughed politely, rushing to her aid. "Not to worry, ma'am." He picked something up off the floor and brought it to her level. "That's only Q*Bert. He won't hurt you."
"Oh." She looked the orange tabby cat in the eye, raised her hand up, and carefully scratched between his ears. She'd never had a cat before, being much more of a dog person herself, but she figured cats liked this just as much as dogs did.
Q*Bert purred in reply, proving her theory. Satisfied, Felix smiled and placed the cat back on the ground. He stood back up and held out his hand to accept the thermos Tamora still clutched in her hand.
Following him to the kitchen, she took her place at the table. Her eyes scanned the kitchen, another area of his apartment that looked much more homey than her's.
The counters were covered, but not exactly cluttered, with appliances and a few random knickknacks. The only thing on her counters were the water stains from her broken sink, which she had never bothered to clean up, and a coffee maker.
After a quick observation, she found neither of these things here.
She focused on his fridge door, covered with magnets and pictures, quite the opposite of her blank one. She also spotted some drawings taped to the bottom door, clearly made by a child.
"Those belong to my niece, Vanellope," He said, following her curious gaze.
"Interesting name," She stated. "I didn't know you had any siblings." Technically, she didn't really know anything about him, besides his job, which was more for her benefit. She tried to keep her amount of acquaintances to a minimum.
"Just an older brother, Ralph," He replied. "He's a construction worker, currently working on that old building over on Main."
She knew the place. She passed there every morning during her daily run. "The one they're tearing down?"
"That's the one," He continued. "He's the main worker on the project. They're even using some of his blueprint ideas for the new parking garage they're going to build there. Should be up by next spring."
"So, he's a wrecker and you're a fixer," She noted with feined interest.
"You got it," He laughed. It was obvious she wasn't the first person to make this connection, but it seemed to please him that she picked up on it. "So, how do you like your coffee? I'm afraid I don't have any creamer, so all I have to offer is sugar and milk."
"I actually drink my coffee black," She admitted. "Anything else is too sweet for my taste."
He nodded, pouring the hot liquid into a plain mug and carefully placing it in front of her. He then poured himself some, leaving a bit of room for some additions.
She brought her focus to her own cup and blew at the steam before bringing it to her lips and taking a small sip. When she looked back at the handyman, he was scooping sugar into his hot drink.
She wasn't sure how many she had missed, but upon watching him, she was certain she counted at least seven spoonfuls of sugar entering his cup, before he stirred it around and placed the spoon in the sink.
He cautiously carried his mug with both hands over to the table and sat down. Tamora looked on in amusement as he took his first sip, his face slightly puckering up afterwards.
She chuckled. "Too much sugar?"
He shook his head. "Not enough."
He got up again, to grab a new spoon, then turned around, as if something just struck him. "May I offer you anything to eat?"
"Nah, I'm good."
"You sure?" He asked again, his hospitable instincts almost yearning for a yes. He opened his fridge to reveal at least five different, barely eaten, pies sitting on the shelves.
"Is baking a hobby of yours, Fix-It?" She grinned, not entirely surprised.
"Not unless I've got a hankering for burnt apartment," He laughed, clearly making fun of his cooking abilities, though Tamora found it hard that he could be any worse than her. "These are actually just kind favors from some of the neighbors I help out around the building."
"Oh," She said, quickly discovering how lame her coffee was starting to look.
"So, what's your fancy?" He asked, leaning his head into the cool interior. "I've got cherry, apple, blueberry, pecan, pumpkin, and chocolate."
Her stomach gurgled at the options. She never realized there were so many different kind of pies. "What're you having?"
He shrugged, modestly. "I'll probably grab a slice of pecan." He turned, a small grin on his face. "It's my favorite."
She nodded. "Great, I'll have the same."
His eyes widened in surprise. He'd never meet anyone besides himself who actually liked pecan pie.
After placing a slice on each of the two plates he pulled out from his well-organized cupboard, he brought it to the table, sliding one of the plates down in front of her.
He immediately got to working on his, proving that it was, in fact, his favorite type of pie.
Tamora took a much more careful approach on the matter. She slowly lifted her fork, and pressed the metal down at the tip of the pie, taking off just a small piece.
She balanced it on the edge of the fork and brought it to her lips. After chewing gradually, she forcefully swallowed down the substance, taking a long sip of her coffee afterward, thankful it had cooled down enough, so as not to burn her tongue.
Still working on his own slice, Felix didn't seem to notice the obvious distaste it brought her. "Good, isn't it?"
"It's a bit different than I'm used to," She lied.
He nodded. "Yeah, that's Mary. She always adds a little something new to her recipes. You're probably tasting the orange rind."
"Yeah, that must be it." She looked around, trying to forget the taste, when her eyes fell on the fridge again. She took a closer look at the pictures there, trying to take in as much as she could about the man sitting in front of her, without having to outright ask.
The first picture she noticed was a family portrait, with a man, woman, and two young boys. Though clearly an old photo, she quickly identified the boy on the bottom left as Felix, his hair still parted similarly to how it was now, a slightly toothless grin on his face.
Beside him stood a taller, more bulky child that she assumed was Ralph. She noticed he hadn't changed much either, as she took in the several pictures of him with his daughter.
Another picture that caught her eye was one that must have been taken most recently, of Felix and who she assumed was his Dad (just an older, more gray-haired version of the man who stood in the family portrait), standing in front of their apartment building.
In another quick observation, she noticed there were no new pictures of him with his mother. Her stomach knotted as she finally found something, albeit sad, she and Felix had in common.
"They're great, aren't they?" Felix asked, as he followed her gaze, thinking she was looking at his niece's drawings again.
Tamora nodded, deciding that was a lot easier than admitting to practically snooping through his past life. And as she took another look at the pictures, she realized they were actually quite good.
Though clearly made by a child, there was no denying there was some talent hidden there, just waiting to come out.
"She's an amazing artist," He rested his hand under his chin and smiled. "She's much more interested in racing, though."
Tamora cocked an eyebrow. "Racing?"
"Oh, you should see her!" Felix grinned wider. "She's a natural. Participates in the annual soap box derby every year. Scares my brother half to death." He laughed.
She smiled in return, intrigued by how close he seemed to be with his family, since she herself was not.
"I'd love to see her sometime," Tamora replied, sincerely.
"Really?" Felix perked up. "'C-cause the derby actually takes place next week. So, if you wanted, maybe we could-"
"Great, it's a date," She said, cursing her choice of words when she caught Felix's surprised expression. "I mean.."
"I know what you meant, ma'am," He smiled, something of a blush creeping at the edge of his cheeks.
She returned the smile, then focused back on her slice of pie, the moment a little too overwhelming for her. She choked back another bite and downed the rest of her coffee, before standing up.
"I'm gonna pour myself another mug," She said, explaining her actions. "Can I get you anymore?"
He hesitated. "I'm gonna be honest with you, ma'am."
She turned, curiously, her bangs slightly hiding her face.
He twiddled his thumbs. "I don't actually care much for coffee. At all."
Tamora blinked. Then suddenly, she burst out laughing, startling the handyman, since he'd rarely ever saw her smile, let alone laugh.
"What is it?"
She shook her head, trying to compose herself as she realized what both she and him inadvertently did. "It's nothing, I just..." She held her stomach, attempting to hold in another laugh. "I just really hate pie."