Title: The Day Before Tomorrow (NY Series part 5, final part)
Author: Anna
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Warren/Andrew
Summary: Coffee in the city
Feedback: yes please
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Notes: Thanks to FabricatedVoice and Jenn for the betas. Especially Fab, because she did it twice.

Also thank you so much to everyone who read and reviewed this little fic. Sorry for the incredibly long delay between chapters. I hope this ending is satisfactory.

They sat at a small round table in the corner of a coffee place they liked just off Broadway. It had a faint faux-aged air about it, but neither of them minded. The smell of mocha was too enticing and the leather couches too comfortable to allow the antiqued copper coffee bar bother them.

"You do know we live in, like, the gayest part of the city, right?" said Warren, unwrapping the chocolate that came with the cappuccino.

"No, that's Chelsea," replied Andrew.

"Okay, the second gayest."

"Second gayest," Andrew conceded, nodding. "Yeah, I know." He moodily flicked his sugar packet.

"Did you do that on purpose?"

"Do what?"

Warren sighed in exasperation.

"Move us into the second gayest part of the city, dumbass. When I was sick."

"Oh!" said Andrew. "No." He shook his head vehemently. "No, I didn't. I just, you know, found it."

"Uh huh," said Warren. He covered up a smile with his oversized cappuccino cup. Lately he found it harder and harder not to cave immediately and bite that defensively pouting lower lip. "So you're just, what, drawn to the gayness? Subconsciously?"

Andrew shrugged and stirred slowly. The chocolate powder was already melting into the foam.

"I don't know." He licked his spoon thoughtfully. "I was drawn to you," he added, a tentative twinkle in his eye.

Warren put down his cup and laughed quietly.

"Touché," he said. "I guess you were."

Andrew smiled happily and sipped his coffee. Conversation bubbled and hummed around them. Privacy was a given in the midst of so many people.

"You like it here, Andrew?"

"Oh, yeah," said Andrew. "Totally. New York is so much cooler than Sunnydale."

"Yeah, it is," replied Warren. "You know…" He frowned a little and looked intently at the table top, his fingertip tracing a dark vein in the marble veneer. "You know, sometimes I can't really remember Sunnydale too clearly." It was a vague statement, he knew, but he found that clarity stuck in his throat.

"Well," said Andrew. "You were sick."

"Yeah, I was," agreed Warren. "I forget little things." He looked up, half smiling, faintly sad.

"Is your head totally better now?" Andrew looked concerned. Just a tiny muscular contraction between the eyes and Warren felt suddenly and almost overwhelmingly grateful.

"It's been okay lately," he said, shrugging. "Andrew?"

"Yeah?" said Andrew.

"When did we, you know…" He waved his hand vaguely between them. "When did we hook up?"

"You don't remember that?" Andrew didn't look hurt, he looked wary. Too many games played, thought Warren.

"No. I've been trying. When was it?" He hated having to ask. "What happened?"

Andrew considered him for a moment, a speculative look in his eyes that Warren felt was some kind of test or judgment, as if maybe he was not worthy of secrets. It unnerved him slightly. Dynamics shifted in that moment like a magnetic field flipping and suddenly compasses pointed the other way.

The metaphor seemed apt.

"You kissed me," said Andrew at last. "You were designing the cerebral dampener, and Jonathan was out somewhere. And you kissed me, and told me it was secret, and then you went back to your diagrams. That was the first time."

"I kissed you?" He thought he'd remember that. "Really?"

"Yeah," said Andrew.

"Huh," said Warren pensively. He drank some more cappuccino. "I remember the first time we had sex," he said.

Andrew nodded. "The night after…"

"Katrina," said Warren.

"Yeah," said Andrew, quietly. He looked away, down, at anything but Warren.

"It's all right, Andrew." Warren watched him. "I was sick, okay? It wasn't really me."

"Oh, I know," said Andrew, looking back at Warren now and smiling without input from his eyes. "You were sick."

"Yeah." Warren nodded, reassuringly. "That's all over. Sunnydale's so over."

"Right. We live here now." Andrew had calmed a little, thought Warren. He knew he would.

"Yeah. In the second gayest part of New York." Warren smiled, playful now.

"Which I didn't do on purpose," said Andrew, holding up an admonishing finger.

"I know. You're subconsciously drawn to gay things like this coffee bar and Pottery Barn."

"And like you." Andrew grinned.

"Shut up," retorted Warren.

"You should make boy robots. We could open a store." Andrew giggled into his coffee mug.

"Oh my God, shut up," said Warren. He sipped the end of his cappuccino. It was getting cool now and sweet with partially dissolved sugar. He never stirred the sugar properly. He hated messing up the foam.

"I would hate to meet someone from Sunnydale here," said Andrew. His laughter had died. He looked pensive now.

"The Slayer's forgotten us, Andrew," replied Warren. "You don't have to worry that she'll come after us."

"Not even that," said Andrew. "I mean, it's like, we're the spin-off, and Sunnydale is the original series, but you can't have crossovers because we're, like, alternative universe, and so if they turned up here they'd have to be different, but they wouldn't be. Not like us."

"You think we're different here?"

"Yeah," said Andrew emphatically. "You're not sick, and we're not supervillains, and Jonathan's not here. Totally AU."

"I guess," said Warren. Andrew missed Jonathan. Maybe it was jealousy that Warren felt. He wasn't sure.

"But you can have AU crossovers, kind of like Redemption, when Captain Picard meets Tasha Yar's Romulan daughter, and that happened because of Yesterday's Enterprise, which was AU." Andrew looked worried.

"Andrew, relax. Just relax. Okay?" Warren felt some distance from relaxed. "Take it easy. We're not gonna crossover with anyone from Sunnydale." The thought made his stomach tighten. Caffeine didn't help.

"It might make you sick again." Andrew looked so anxious. Warren was touched.

"It might."

"Then we'd have to move again," said Andrew.

"Not gonna happen, Andrew, okay? It's you and me, and we're staying here." He could hear the conviction in his own voice. "Nothing will change that."

The expression on Andrew's face was one that Warren had come to know. It remained almost blank, and yet Warren could see inside. He knew what Andrew was thinking, how he was feeling, and the thought that he knew Andrew so well made Warren feel something unfamiliar and pleasant. Now was one of those times. Andrew was thinking, Warren will protect me. He always does.

And Warren saw that Andrew was slightly thrilled, and slightly afraid, and it reminded him of the time they got away with murder.

Cappuccino always tasted sickly at the bottom of the cup. Warren knew he put in too much sugar, and always decided that next time he'd put in less and stir it properly, but he never did. He liked to watch the chocolate powder melt, and he hated disturbing it with the spoon. So he knew next time it would be the same, and next time he'd get to the end and his mouth would feel sticky and dry, as it did now. As it always did. As it would every time.

"Okay," said Andrew, finally. He nodded slowly. "Good."

"Yeah," said Warren. He drained his cup and winced at the taste.

"What if it was Jonathan? That we met?"

Warren sighed. "We're not gonna meet anyone, Andrew, okay?"

"Okay."

"Okay." Warren watched Andrew drink the last of his coffee. Jonathan was always on Andrew's mind. Sometimes they'd be in the comic book store and he'd mention how much Jonathan would like some new storyline. Sometimes they'd be shopping for clothes in one of the places near the park and Andrew would hold up a tiny t-shirt and make some joke about Jonathan. Warren always laughed, but he'd rather forget Jonathan. He wished Andrew would forget Jonathan. In case, one day, walking down the street, it was Jonathan that they met.

It was good to forget some things. He sighed again, under his breath.

He did wish he could remember that kiss, though.

"Hey," said Warren, reaching out and pressing his fingertips against Andrew's hand. "You done?"

Andrew nodded. "Yeah," he said. "You wanna go do something?"

"Red Dwarf 2 is out on DVD," said Warren, smiling again, tenderly. He knew how to shake Andrew's sadness away.

"Cool," said Andrew. "Let's go to Tower."

"It's a plan." Warren stood up, taking his coat from the back of the chair. "The most complex plan we've had in weeks," he added.

"There was that time we planned to go to Tower, then to the park," said Andrew.

"Oh yeah, that was pretty intricate." Warren led the way out of the crowded, bustling shop, paying on the way. "I kinda miss plans, Andrew," he said quietly when they reached the street.

Andrew buttoned his jacket. "You're getting used to it," said Andrew. "Hey, what are the extras on this DVD?"

"Interviews, outtakes, boring image galleries, the usual."

"Cool," said Andrew, excitedly. He took Warren's hand in his.

The afternoon was crisp and cold. Warren loved the sharp smell of the air on days like this. His palm was warm against Andrew's, his other hand deep in the pocket of his coat. Copper leaves fluttered in the needling breeze and the sky rolled low overhead.

He was getting used to it, the lack of plans, and that worried him. Too long without plans and something would atrophy.

But perhaps he would worry about it tomorrow. That was the one thing he really liked about not having plans. He could be reasonably certain that there would be a tomorrow.