Froth

A/N:
Rated T, adult themes.
Drama/Mystery.
TSCC universe, sometime towards end of season one, or early season two.
Featuring Derek
Status complete.

Derek sat in the coffee shop. Almost oblivious to those around him. He stared morosely into the cup before him. Coffee. Derek liked the coffee here. He leaned forward and breathed in the fumes. The smell was delicious. One of the few pleasures in life. Simple and pure. Strong black coffee, then with a splash of fresh milk added, but no froth. Fresh milk. Something else he had never had before coming here. In the future the coffee was out of date freeze dried granules. There were no fresh coffee beans, very little fresh milk. Being reminded of the future darkened his mood further. The coffee shop was a refuge. A place where the world made sense. A place to switch off. But there were still times when he wanted to...... Wanted to.......

"Excuse me. Is this seat taken?"

Derek's train of thought was broken. He realised he was being spoken to. He looked up. A woman was looking at him. Her thin lips smiling at him.

"No, sure. Go ahead." He replied. A quick glance around showed that there were empty tables. It was before the time when most office workers would arrive. He shuffled his chair around to be slightly further away from her, and swept a clear space on the table.

"I like the look of this place." She said, glancing around the shop. "The décor is peaceful. A nicely chosen colour scheme." She looked back at him. "Do you come here often?"

"I've been here a few times." He answered. "Yourself? I don't think I've seen you before."

"I'm new in town. I had some work to do. Just two more tasks to finish, and then I'll be off." She looked at Derek. She seemed interested in him. Looked him in the eye. "But I'll be back."

"What line of work?" Derek asked. Though he was not interested in what she did. Not interested in her. He found her somewhat waspish and harsh. A career woman. He glanced down, no sign of a wedding band, no tell-tale pale band of indented skin. Pale enough already, he thought.

"I'm reorganising things at a company. There have been some redundancies. I've had to reduce the head count. Some people were disappointed, as you might expect, but the end goal will be worthwhile." She paused for a moment and then asked. "But what about yourself?"

"I don't do a lot right now. I guess you could say I was made redundant. Replaced by someone else." Derek looked wistfully into his coffee, though there were no answers to be found. "I'm just killing time for now."

The door to the shop opened, and a tall well built man came in. He was wearing a dark blue suit. A slightly unfashionable suit, but clean and well pressed. He glanced around, then approached the customer nearest to the door.

"I'm finding your answer troubling." The woman said. So far she had not touched her coffee. She now placed her hands around the mug, as if to warm them up. "Everyone has a purpose in life. Something they were born to do, you could say. No one is completely redundant. Everything has a place."

The suit pulled out a photo from his inner pocket and showed it to the customer.

"Have you seen this boy?" He asked.

The customer shook her head. The suit moved on to the next person.

The woman continued. "Do you have any hobbies? Any interests? Anything to take your mind away from the petty mundane monotony of your life? Even if you don't think so, there are people who need you. They may not show it, but they do."

Derek found the conversation getting uncomfortable. Too close to the truth. Too close to what he had been thinking. He shifted in his chair and responded. "Not really. Maybe I should." He paused, circling his middle finger around the rim of his cup. Then added, "How about yourself? Do you find time for anything outside work?"

The suit was moving on through the shop.

"Have you seen this boy?" He asked another customer. He was drawing closer to where Derek and the woman sat.

"I have interests, you could say." The woman said. "I make cloth. Patterns. Tapestries. Threads creating a picture. Strands coming together. All things intertwining." She moved slightly closer to Derek and asked. "Do you have any relatives? Any children?"

"No. I don't." Replied Derek. "I had a brother. He died. But I still feel close to him." He glanced down at his wrist, the tattoo of the Skynet work camp reminding him of those days with Kyle. "How about yourself? Any children?"

"Not yet." She replied. "But I am expecting one real soon."

Derek glanced down at her flat washboard stomach.

The suit had moved to stand in front of them, with the photo held out to Derek. The woman took her hands from her coffee, clasped his wrist and leaned closer to him.

"Look at me." She said. Her voice commanded attention. Startled, Derek looked up at her.

"Have you seen this boy?" The suit asked him.

Derek glanced at, but did not see the photo.

"No I have not." He replied.

"Have you seen this boy?" The suit asked the woman.

"No I have not." She said. And the suit moved onto the next customers.

She released his wrist, and pulled away slightly. "I'm sorry." She said. Then brightened. "Perhaps you should try the arts. Painting, reading. Poetry maybe. I have found it educational."

Derek smiled grimly and quoted. "'All fled, all done. So lay me on the pyre. The feast is over, and the lamps expire.'"

"Sounds similar to Viola Garvin." The woman said. "A highly obscure source."

"No." Derek replied. "Robert E. Howard."

"But of course." The woman said. "Though I suggest it is inappropriate in your current state of mind."

"I've read a number of his books." Derek protested. "They have given me inspiration. Comfort. Escape. Hope."

The suit approached a couple of youths.

"Have you seen this boy?" He asked.

"You looking for a boy?" They chuckled in some shared joke. "You in the wrong part of town mister."

The suit ignored them and moved on. He looked around, but saw no new customers. He walked back to the door, then out into the street.

The woman watched the suit walk away from the shop, then turned to Derek. "I have to go now. So much to do and so little time. I hope our little chat has been useful." She looked him in the eye. "There are people who need you. Stay with them." She paused, then added. "Stay with us. I may not be here tomorrow, but I hope you will be. I'm sure we will meet again."

She rose to leave.

Derek stood up, moving her chair back to help her out, and asked. "I didn't catch your name?"

"Catherine." She smiled thinly at him. "Until we meet again Derek."

She nodded a goodbye to him, turned to the door, and left.

Derek sat down again. His cup was empty. So absorbed in the conversation, that he could not remember drinking any of it. The woman had not drank any of hers. It was a cappuccino by the look of it, and had cooled down. Derek took a mouthful anyway. Not too bad, he thought to himself. Perhaps froth on coffee was not such a bad thing after all. He could get used to this. He drained the cup.

The shop was filling up now with office workers. Derek stood up, stretched, and left. The day was looking brighter now. Perhaps the next day would be too.

THE END

A/N:
Thank you for reading this, I hope you liked it. All reviews welcome, but no plot spoilers please, any questions, drop me a line. If you have read this far, I think you deserve a joke. If this has been told before, then I apologise, I have not seen it so far, but I have not read all stories:

A cup is filled half way.
John and Sarah think it is half full.
Derek thinks it is half empty.
Cameron thinks the cup is the wrong size.