Disclaimer: As always, I own nothing but the original characters and the situations the characters find themselves in. Thanks so much for continuing to read and for giving me feedback on my work. It's muchly appreciated and I do read every review you send me!

Note: No offense meant to anyone who is white and wears or wore dreads. I had two cousins I love very much who did it when we were teenagers. And it looked horrible.

I Shall Call Him Squishie

Harry could only be thankfully that the mortification of all this was bound to kill him any second now. Any second now. And he would welcome his untimely demise, Harry silently acknowledged, rather than live in a world where his boss, best friend, and assorted perfect strangers had heard him...purr. Purr, for Christ sakes! He had never, in his over thirty years upon this bloody earth, made that noise before. A noise he wished never to make again, thank you very much. So death needed to hurry the Hell up, Harry thought very darkly to himself.

Or at the very least strike down the smug bastard currently standing at his side and looking far too pleased with himself.

"Wipe that smirk off your face."

Not looking threatened in the least, Eggsy had the audacity to sass him. "You and wot army, Luv?"

Picturing his hands around Eggsy's neck, squeezing the life out of the little shite, Harry's hands actually started to rise to make it a reality.

Only to drop them back down to his sides when Arthur said his name in a quelling tone of voice.

Right. They were in public. He'd have to wait until there were less witnesses.

"Wot? Mad I got rid of Christie?" Eggsy's look of innocent confusion was so patently false Harry couldn't believe that he bothered. "Or is that why you're in such a shite mood all the time? Shagging him on the regular would kill anyone's will ta live."

It was on the tip of Harry's tongue to state why he was livid, but Harry was determined to pretend that the whole purring thing hadn't happened. If the Fates weren't going to be kind and kill him, his best course of action was denial. Followed by Eggsy's removal from his vicinity. And his timeline, preferably.

Having come over Merlin's father clasped Eggsy's shoulder and told him that it would be best if he dropped that topic. They should be heading out for a spot of brekkie, after all.

"Yes, Sir."

And of course the bastard was being all respectful and mature now, Harry thought bitterly as Arthur steered Eggsy towards the door, the rest of them following after them.

A brief glance in Percival's direction showed the younger agent deliberately not meeting his gaze, which suited Harry just fine. It would give him time to think up a suitable threat to keep the chatterbox from telling the other Kingsman agents about this. He'd borrow Eggsy's threat if necessary.

Still no doubt sucking up Eggsy got the door, holding it open for everyone as they passed by him.

And the Kingsman agents and Rachel in turn moved off to the side to make way for a woman on her way into the shop, the twenty something beauty giving Eggsy the eye as she passed by him and thanked him for holding the door for her.

The smile and appreciative look in the boy's eye as he told her it was his pleasure-well you'd think from his tone of voice that the two of them had just done something a lot more intimate than pass by each other on the way to and from a shop.

Once she was through the doorway-and after Eggsy had visibly snuck a look at her retreating rear end-Eggsy swaggered out and picked up his pace to bring him to Harry's side.

Harry made sure to silently convey how much he'd rather he didn't.

"Wot? I can look, ya know. I ain't cheatin on you or nothin."

"It wouldn't be cheating because we are not a couple." Harry corrected him, deliberately lengthening his stride as they all started down the street.

Struggling to increase his own stride, and not pleased by it, Eggsy glared up at Harry as he stated that maybe he was right, seeing as he'd be mad to want a stuffy prick like him for a husband.

Harry ignored that. He was the adult after all. And he would have kept right on ignoring the little brat if not for what Eggsy's muttered next under his breath.

"Freakin A. You must be like fancy cheese or wine. Ya gotta age another twenty fucking years before ya're worth nibblin or suckin on."

Oh that was it. He didn't care that they were in public or that-

"Eggsy." Rachel's voice only just cut through the red haze in front of Harry's eyes. "I don't know what you just said to Harry...but you two need to act your age. And like your professions. Now."

Rachel was far too young to be Harry's mother-but she did have two children and thus had developed a mother with a capital M voice that, when employed, made you instinctively want to mind her. And fear what the consequences would be if you didn't.

"Sorry, Rach. Not another word cept about business. Swear down."

"Agreed." So long as Eggsy kept his end of the bargain.

)

Right. It was official, then. Dud Harry was now and forever Dud Harry to Eggsy. Not even twenty fucking years was going to improve this prick in the slightest. Dud Harry obviously had zero fucking taste. Or a working brain in his empty, fucking skull. Or...or fuck, he really needed to start acting his age like Rach had just said, Eggsy very reluctantly had to admit to himself. He needed to stop thinking with his hormones and ego and show everyone, particularly Dud Harry, that he was too fucking good for him. Which should be obvious even on Eggsy's worst day, but Dud Harry's lack of intelligence had already been established, hadn't it?

He wasn't here to make friends or romance Dud Harry. He was here to protect him. Full stop.

Straightening his shoulders and wiping his face of all expression Eggsy went into bodyguard mode.

Probably for the best considering all the distractions around him, Eggsy mused in the back of his mind minutes later, as his constant scans and hyper vigilance meant that he was very much taking in everything about him. As in all the ways it was not at all what he remembered.

In some cases, it was the same shops only different paint, signs, or they was advertising things you'd find in your parents' basement or in secondhand shops. In other cases, Eggsy knew that what he was seeing was wrong, though he couldn't have said why. Which just irked him that much more, and he was already pretty fucking irked to begin with.

But he was seeing enough to know that he was surrounded by stuff he'd seen in movies from his mum's time. The clothes, more of the ridiculously big, fake looking phones, the hairstyles. Yup. He was so in the fucking 90s. Bloody Hell.

Eggsy's only consolation was that least it wasn't the God awful 80s.

Though he would pay money to see Dud Harry wearing pastels and the ridiculous hairstyles of that decade. A fuck ton of money.

Half his brain occupied thinking about that, it took a minute or so longer to figure out where they might be going until Eggsy caught sight of a very familiar sign up ahead. It might look a hell of a lot newer, but who the fuck cared?

"Widdershins!"

Glancing over his shoulder, Arthur smiled as he asked if Eggsy was fond of the café.

"Course! I freakin love it. Their French toast is sick."

"Sick?" Merlin repeated.

"Like..." What was the right word for someone Merlin's age. "Cool? Ahhh...groovy?"

Rachel and her father-in-law burst out laughing while Percival loudly snickered. Dud Harry looked like he was trying not to show any amusement-of course he was-while Merlin looked torn between annoyance and amusement too.

"Cool works." Rachel informed him dryly.

"Got it." Eggsy saluted her even as he angled his body so that his back was angled to act as a shield against a passing car that was going a little too fast for his liking. Not that he could physically cover as much of Dud Harry as he'd want to, but he'd do the best that he could.

Dud Harry gave him a look Eggsy wasn't sure how to interpret, but dismissed as unimportant.

Nearing the front gate that led into the small outdoor seating the café offered, they all moved off to the side to allow two women pushing prams to go by them. The blonde one was talking about her recent visit to the USA and how horrified she'd been to see how popular dreads were becoming over there.

Which Eggsy totally got that. White people should just not do dreads. Nine times out of ten they just looked ridiculous. They'd be better off tying bloody jellyfish to their bald heads, far as Eggsy was concerned. At least then they could be used as a defense against-

Mind leaping from that thought to another thought, to a movie scene he'd watched endlessly once upon a time, Eggsy lips struggled not to twitch maniacally, Eggsy biting down hard on said bottom lip to counter with pain so that he didn't burst into laughter. Not looking at Harry was a must.

Jellyfish. Which were brainless. That scene where Dory tried to make one a pet, and it stung her. Squishie. Dud Harry. Add in the fact that Eggsy was having serious memory problems right now, it was just too bloody perfect for words.

"Are you having some sort of seizure?"

Opening his mouth would mean possibly laughing hysterically, so Eggsy just shook his head slightly in Dud Harry's general direction as he tried not to enjoy it too much. Imagining what Dud Harry would say if he started calling him Squishie.

Allowing some very quiet snickers to escape so that he just didn't combust from repressed laughter, Eggsy reminded himself sternly that he was here as an agent, and did his best to project that as they headed over to the table the hostess was taking them to. The seats were looking a little worn, as was the décor, but the place still smelled like culinary heaven and that was all that mattered.

Now that he knew he was going to eat, and eat this well, Eggsy was bloody starving.

Fingers crossed his stomach didn't start growling. Dud Harry wouldn't let him live it down.

Naturally Rachel and Merlin's dad were situated in the safest corner while the rest of them moved to points of protection. That Dud Harry had absolutely no intention of being treated like a soft target came as no surprise, and Eggsy didn't fight him on this one. As long as he still had a good line of vision for the front door and any threats coming that way, he wasn't going to worry too much. The main cook here was a former merchant marine. There weren't no way on God's green earth that someone was coming from the back without holy hell breaking loose. They'd have plenty of warning, and Percival was no slouch.

Nor was Dud Harry. Probably.

And letting the poor little posh prick choose his own seat seemed to earn Eggsy some brownie points, which he apparently needed. Since Dud Harry was just that much of a pompous arse.

Taking his seat Eggsy picked up the menu, pleased to see that the only thing that had really changed was the lack of calorie listing. And the prices. Fucking A. Ah, the good ole days when things were so much cheaper. Score.

Eggsy patted his pocket to ensure his wallet was there, reminded himself that he couldn't go crazy because a fight on a full stomach was never a good idea-he knew THAT from previous experience-and then prepared to enjoy himself immensely.

)

Harry prided himself on the fact that he didn't say a word or betray for a moment his reaction when Eggsy rhymed off his order. You'd have thought the boy was pregnant and eating for two. Possibly three. He'd seen for himself that there wasn't an inch of fat on Eggsy's body earlier, and yes, the boy had thrown up the contents of his stomach last night, but still-it took considerable restraint on Harry's part not to point out that all that food was just going to make his 'bodyguard' sluggish and slow to react.

Or throw up again, just so he'd have room for it all.

None of them said anything about that though, Arthur instead directing the conversation to the world they lived in so that they could all advise Eggsy on things he should know to better fit into this time period. Harry opted to say little, content to observe instead.

While also wondering just what had made Eggsy make such odd faces just before they'd arrived here. Had he had future visions of their so-called life together? If that was the case things did not bode well for him at all.

Regardless, Merlin was discussing the complete absurdity of the whole Y2K craze when the food started to arrive.

And pretty much all of Harry's humor over Eggsy huge order fled in the following time.

The boy ate with perfect table manners befitting a gentleman-if you weren't paying as much attention as Harry was. If you were really watching, you'd see that Eggsy was restraining himself from shoveling all that food in like it was going to be taken away from him at any moment. You would see the hint of fury come and gone so fast from Eggsy's eyes when Percival helped himself to some of the boy's bacon without asking. Then there was the stern set of Eggsy's shoulders, like he was actively holding himself back from protecting his plate after that.

That all added up in Harry's mind to someone who wasn't used to food being plentiful. Who knew to eat while you could, because you didn't know when your next meal was coming.

Eggsy was Lee's son. They'd lived in the council estates, but had been better off than many living there. There would have been money from the military-Kingsman had made sure that Lee's widow would still get his benefits-and Michelle Unwin had started working part time as a salesclerk just prior to Lee's death. There should have been enough money to make sure they were both adequately fed, housed and clothed.

The keyword was 'should' have been. Had that not been the case? If something had happened to Mrs. Unwin in this Eggsy's timeline, leaving Eggsy without a proper guardian, Kingsman should have been notified. Stepped in to ensure his wellbeing.

He couldn't even ask. The young man's memories were apparently as holey as Swiss cheese. And even if he did remember...he might not wish to speak of it.

"You waste good food, too?"

Blinking, Harry made a sound of inquiry automatically.

Eggsy pointed his fork towards Harry's plate. A decidedly ungentlemanly move. "You ain't eating."

Oh. Right.

Looking down at what remained on his plate Harry couldn't find much of an appetite to dig in. "Did you want some of it? I overestimated my appetite."

A knowing, soft smile crossed Eggsy's lips as he stated that Harry never did have much of an appetite before noon, did he.

It was said with affection. Love.

Feeling that like a physical blow Harry found himself smiling just as softly as he held out his plate towards Eggsy for his perusal.

"Nah. Best not. I eat too much and I won't be of use ta anyone. But thanks."

Nodding his head Harry turned his attention back to eating because that gave him something to focus on rather than the moment they'd just had. A moment they should not have had because Eggsy was an annoying little brat and he was looking forward to being well rid of him. The sooner the better.

Right?

"So do you come here often, Lad?" Merlin inquired from further down the table, perhaps trying to help Harry out by distracting them. "If you eat like that every time, it's a wonder you can fit through the door."

"Once or twice a week, probably. Conrad loves their pancakes."

"Conrad?"

"Yeah. He's our...bugger." Eggsy's eyes widened comically. "O.M.G. We do have a kid. Not in my timeline, but in another one. Fuck a duck."

Oh no. No. No. No. NO. NO!

Dimly Harry heard Percival advise him to breathe. It sounded like good advice.

"So do we have two kids in both timelines or one in each?" Eggsy muttered to himself, loud enough that the rest of them heard him. "Conrad's a way better name than Daisy, at least. I wonder if we named him that after the first head of Kingsman's son."

"Daisy?" The conversation they'd had earlier, about flower names came to Harry's mind. Oh fuck.

Apparently completely unaware of the panic spiral Harry was dangerously close to falling into Eggsy just nodded and then started speculating to himself how many timelines there could be. How many kids there could be.

"We are not having children." Harry was going to be firm on that.

"Well, not biologically. Less Mpreg is possible in one of them timelines. Which I guess is possible." Eggsy nose scrunched up at that thought. "I nominate you if that's the case."

Harry had a very bad feeling he knew what Mpreg was, even if he'd never heard the phrased before. And no. Just...no.

"Rach." Eggsy turned his attention to Merlin's wife with a somewhat frantic look on his face. "I'm not a bad dad if I can't remember sprogs from another timeline, right?"

"No, Eggsy. I think you get a pass there."

"Thank Christ."

Okay. Harry's appetite was officially gone.