The boy wasn't at the café, so it liked like this was going to be a big waste of time. Tony had looked over the information Jarvis had found through jobs the boy had had. He actually hadn't ever had another job according to his file. His name supposedly was Edward Halm, but Edward Halm didn't exist. The boy didn't seem to exist at all. The face had had a few different names come up but none of them were the boy. He didn't have any past, like he was hiding in plain sight.

"What is it about you?" Tony had no idea, which was a new thing. The boy was immortal, but what was he? Was he some sort of alien, or he could quite possibly be some scientist that had accidentally (maybe purposely) turned himself into an immortal.

The boy was normal looking from head to toe. Sure, he did have long hair but that wasn't too odd. He had nothing else that screamed 'I'm different!'. His hair was a bright golden blonde and his eyes were blue. He wasn't too tall. Vertically challenged, but not too short.

Tony was on the verge of giving up and just coming back on a later date or maybe asking the manager about his worker. He sighed. The thing about asking the manager was that the manager didn't actually have to tell him anything, and also if he gave the boy a heads up that someone was out looking for him then everything might be wasted.

"Sir, are you sure I can't get you anything?" It was a sweet little waitress who had a bit of a squeaky voice.

"No, I'm waiting for someone." Tony would wait just a little longer for the boy, and if he didn't show he'd order a coffee and leave. So the waiting continued.

Edward was a little embarrassed by his landlord's loud dramatic disappointment.

"Aww, Mr. Halm, do you have to go? My daughter will be so upset when she comes to visit, and I tell her you've left," She exclaimed.

"Yes, I can't stay in New York any longer. I just am glad for your hospitality," Edward said trying to move the conversation along. He was no doubt going too be late for work.

"Are you sure there isn't any way to convince you to stay? Lower your rent?"

"No, I'm afraid not."

"It was worth a try. The family will miss you, you know? I hope you will keep in touch," Miss Ronyilda, the landlord (or landlady) squeaked.

"I'll try." Of course, he wouldn't really. That was much to dangerous. "I need to get to work now, good bye."

Edward ran out of the apartment building as Miss Ronyilda called out to him about how she would miss him and his sweet little brother. She had only met Alphonse a few times he would often times sneak out of the building when no one was around. He was very clearly not ageing, as was Edward. Edward, though said it was because of a disease he had had. He told them all -meaning his co-workers- that because of the illness he once had he no longer looked like he was ageing. It was almost laughably ridiculous that they believed him. It was also a relief that only a few of them asked what it was called. Being good with cover stories, -his automail and Alphonse's body being the reasons- he decided that he would tell them that he couldn't remember because it also affected his memories.

The small café Edward worked at came into view. He ran in through the backdoor, clocking in fifteen minutes late.

"Well, Halm, I see you finally decided to show up for work," One of Edward's co-workers said. He was a tall man with thick brown hair. His name was Kelcer, and was a strait up... there were no words to define such a man.

"Sorry, the landlady was trying to make deals with me so I would stay. If there is a problem talk with Armstrong about it," Edward said as he pulled on his apron.

Jamey, a young, kind of squeaky, girl came in. "Edward! Finally. I have been watching your tables. You owe me at least once before you leave, and there is this guy at one of the tables waiting for someone. Ask him if he needs anything but don't tell him I told you he was waiting. Now, I have to go or I'll be late!" She announced while clocking out and throwing her apron on its hook.

"Thanks, Jamey!" Edward called. He walked out to the tables he was supposed to be serving.

A little 'ping' lit the screen of the default laptop. Jarvis's voice filled the ear piece in Tony's ear.

"Sir, I have found the apartment Edward Halm is living in. He has been living there for five years and according to the files, which were updated earlier today, he is moving out at the end of the week."

"Interesting. Is there anything about which apartment he is staying in?"

"Apartment 205, Sir, at the Lillian Rose."

"Got it. I guess, I don't need to stay here," Tony said, about to stand up.

"Hello, Sir. Can I get you anything?" A male voice asked. Tony was about to deny the need for anything when he looked up and was met with the boy from the pictures.

"A black coffee, please."

Edward wrote out down and asked, "Anything else?"

"No, that's good."

The boy nodded and told him that his order would be out swiftly. He walked away to give the order to the back and wait on someone else. Tony subtly watched Edward. He was probably no more than twenty, but that was by appearance. If the boy really was an immortal who knew how old he really was?

Edward came back to Tony's table with the streaming coffee on a plastic platter.

He left and once again resumed his work. The boy looked absolutely normal. Nothing gave off the feeling like the boy might be hiding some big secret.

Edward came up with a streaming pot of coffee. "Would you like a refill, Sir?"

"Yes. And the bill."

Edward poured the coffee (it wasn't half bad) and jotted something down. He ripped it out of his note book and put it down on the table. Edward walked off again.

Tony finished the coffee cup and pulled out the correct amount of cash for the coffee and a tip. He also pulled out a pocket sized note book and wrote something down. He placed them all on the table and walked out of the café.

Edward came up to the table the man he had just served had sat at. He grabbed the money of the table, counting out the amount for the coffee and placing the rest in his tip pocket. There was also a little sheet of paper folded up on the table, which he grabbed. He unfolded it and read the text. His eyes widened and he was fighting the urge to panic when he read what was written on the paper.

I know about your secret. Meet me back behind the café._

A/N: Here we are. I would love to thank everyone for the response to my story. It means the world to me when I see the followers and favourites!

Also, about the Armstrong Café. Should Alex Louis Armstrong (The one from this side. Probably with a slightly different name.) or one of his descendents run it? Tell me what you think in the reviews!

-UNAU/IME