Author's note: Thank you to NotMarge, DeadlyThorn1997, and NicoleR85 for your reviews!

Secret Admirer

I didn't implement my new plan immediately. It took me until the next Tuesday before I gathered my courage enough to take action.

"Good afternoon," Billy greeted me as I strode up to the counter at Marceline's.

"Hello," I replied, as eloquent as always.

Loquacious, I am not.

"The usual?"

I smiled a little- apparently I was a regular here at this point, too. "Yes, please."

He went about pouring my coffee while I waited and found it within me to finally speak up. This vague idea I had required Billy's cooperation, and I wasn't quite sure how to go about asking for it.

"That'll be thirty cents," Billy said cheerfully.

I promptly held a dollar out for him.

"Um... the redheaded girl who comes in here so often?" I began, making it sound like a question.

I didn't want to be too creepy and admit that I already knew her name. Idly, I noted that Charles' efforts to make me go out and have normal social interactions with other people had only resulted in me being even more strange. The irony did not escape me.

The joke is on you, Charles.

Billy looked at me sharply, pulling me out of my rather uncomfortable musings. "Zoey Dubois? What about her?"

"This is for her drink too," I said in a rush, before I chickened out. I felt my ears burning in embarrassment, anyway.

The man's eyebrows raised, and he smiled a little. Or maybe it was a smirk in response to how nervous I was.

"And who should I say her mocha is from?" he asked politely.

"Please, don't tell her," I practically begged him.

Seriously. Please don't.

"Why not?"

Crippling shyness and self-esteem issues? I'd rather anonymously show her my appreciation than risk my heart getting stomped into the dirt again?

After all, no relationship was ever going to work for me. I was always at the risk of turning into a furry blue monster at the most inopportune moments. And my track record with women wasn't exactly sparkling.

"Just don't let her know who it was from, please," I repeated lamely, shaking my head to ward off thoughts of Raven.

Billy stared at me for so long I began to feel the urge to tell him to forget about it, but he finally nodded. "Fine."

"Thank you," I replied, feeling relieved. "Keep the change."

Soon enough it was four o'clock, and Zoey was stepping through the door. She was like clockwork, very punctual. I wondered how long after six (when I left) she stayed at the cafe?

It took every ounce of my self-control not to get up and walk out, for fear of her reaction. There was so much riding on this for me.

I focused on pretending to read A Room with a View as Zoey entered the cafe. It was a good book, though I was having trouble with it at the moment simply because of nerves. It seemed I never got any reading done when she was around.

"Hi, Billy," Zoey said, walking up to the counter.

"Hello, Zoey," he replied genially. "The usual?"

"Yes, please."

She went to reach for her money out of her book bag. Left hand side pocket. Not that I'd been paying attention or anything.

"No charge for you today. Your drink's already been paid for," Billy told her with mock-solemnity.

Her hand froze, and her head jerked up to look at him. "What?"

"I said, your mocha has already been paid for," he explained, trying not to smile.

"You don't have to do that, Billy. You know I have no problems paying here," Zoey scolded lightly, pushing her quarter towards him on the counter.

"It wasn't me," Billy replied mischievously. He certainly looked like he was enjoying this too much. "Someone else paid for it."

"Who?"

"Can't tell you. He swore me to secrecy."

Yup. Definitely enjoying this too much. At least I have a willing ally in this.

"'He?'" Zoey repeated, sounding dumbfounded.

Billy nodded. He grinned like the cat who'd caught the canary.

Zoey turned to visually sweep the cafe, as if doing so would give away her secret admirer. I pretended to be focused on my book, and thanked God in heaven that for once my face didn't give me away by flushing up.

I tried to see it from Zoey's point of view- who of us would be likely to do such a thing for a pretty young lady?

There were five other people in the shop, two women and three other men besides me. Two of the other males were "regulars," who always showed up on Tuesdays and Thursdays like I did. One had to be in his mid-thirties, but the other was most likely in his late-twenties. Both plausible candidates as a secret admirer. At least I had some camouflage.

Zoey seemed to agree there there was no way to tell, because she turned back to Billy with a disappointed sigh.

"Do you know why he bought this for me?" she asked curiously.

"He didn't say," Billy replied. "But I think he likes your smile."

"Keep this for a tip, then. And please tell whoever it was 'thank you,' if you happen to see him around," she said, sounding perplexed.

Despite her confused tone, her cheeks were a little pink as she took her seat, and that soft smile was pulling on her lips. She was pleased, just as I'd hoped she would be.

Her reaction encouraged me to do it again on Thursday. Billy just smirked and shook his head, but Zoey seemed very flattered again. And the following two weeks.

It was the Thursday after that- three months since I started going to Marceline's- that I put down extra money.

"This is for Zoey's mocha and any book she wants," I told Billy.

He frowned. "What exactly are your intentions with Zoey?"

I blinked.

Intentions? Did I have any intentions with Zoey at all? Not really. Doing this was all about making her smile, letting her know that someone admired her.

"I don't have any intentions," I replied honestly.

Billy glared at me. "Then why are you doing this?"

I shrugged.

I'm shy and socially inept?

"Don't be coy with me, kid. That girl is like a daughter to me- I held her on the day she was born," he said firmly.

Whoa. Scary dad routine.

"I understand," I told him. "I promise you I have no ill designs on Zoey, sir. I just..."

Watching her study has become the highlight of my week. I'm absolutely besotted by someone I've only spoken to once. Because I am a sad, sad individual.

"I think she's a lovely person. I just wanted to do something to make her smile," I explained finally.

Billy stared at me like he was trying to X-ray my soul, but then finally nodded.

"What's your name?"

"Hank McCoy," I said, holding out a hand for a polite shake.

"Billy Rivers," he said, returning the greeting. He eyed me carefully- this time his faded-blue jean colored eyes were much kinder. "Are you sure you still want to keep this secret, Hank?"

"I do. Please."

He shook his head in exasperation. "Alright, fine."

I had just enough time to get to my seat and look like I was engrossed in a book before Zoey got there. She arrived looking a little bedraggled from the rain outside.

"Hi, Zoey. How's it going?" Billy called out. I glanced up. His expression was rueful, like he already knew the answer.

She gave him a sour look. "I hate rain," she muttered. "It's the bane of the curly-haired."

He laughed, and she stuck her tongue out at him. Then she wandered over to the book shelves for her week's selection.

I waited tensely for her to pick a book and try to buy it. I wondered what her reaction would be when she found out her secret admirer had graduated to buying her books for her.

Zoey brought over Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen and scooted the cup waiting for her closer to the edge of the counter. She reached for her money-

"Already been paid for," Billy announced smugly. Clearly, his amusement over this situation had returned.

She froze. "The book, too?"

"Yup."

Zoey sighed and fiddled with her coffee cup. "Tell him thank you from me, please."

She sat down, looking thoughtful as she pulled out her textbook and began to read. Every now and then she scanned the cafe, like a clue had escaped her and she was trying to find it again.

I'm here. I think you're beautiful. If you knew who- what- was doing these things for you, you'd stop looking for me.

I felt like I was watching her from behind a thick pane of glass.

The space between a glorious being such as she and myself was just too far to cross.