Ikea
He cranes his neck back and forth, left and right, stands on his tiptoes and peers at every corner of the store. He cannot have done this. It is just not possible. He cannot have been outsmarted by a five year old. He cannot have lost him in this blasted store that the child's mother has insisted they visit for a stupid bloody lamp.
This cannot be happening to him.
He really should not have gone to this damned store. He really should not have. It is a wasted trip. And now, now this happens.
He mutters a frustrated bloody hell to himself as he tries to locate a child with a blue shirt, dirty blonde hair and a mischievous smile often partnered by the mischievous glint in his eyes. He really should have refused to bring that boy along. But the puppy dog eyes and the boyish pleading of "Please, Uncle Robert" has gotten to him, and now he's in this predicament.
He shakes his head closes his eyes for a minute, vaguely aware that he is still walking down the aisles of this damned store looking for a five year old, a five year old that could not possibly be any smarter than he is, with his eyes closed.
His eyes suddenly open when he feels himself colliding against something, or rather someone, and he hears a small almost scream. He realizes that he has been walking with his eyes closed (and in his defense, he is merely frustrated and can feel a migraine nipping in his head) and he's caused someone to topple over because he is being stupid.
Fortunately, he has quick reflexes and the moment his eyes has shot open, his arms also reach out, and he catches the woman who is just about to fall to the ground by her waist. He holds on to her, keeping his arms snaked around her slender waist, helps her to get a hold of her balance, let gravity pull her back to her feet steadily.
"Thank you," she murmurs quietly and breathlessly as she pulls away from him slightly. She looks at him then, her fiery blue eyes captivating him for a moment. Gods, she is beautiful. One perfect eyebrow is raised in question, perhaps even in judgment, and her lips are pursed. Her cheekbones are high and her skin is fair, and he means really fair, but those are just details, none too important (only, it is, because they will leave an imprint on his brain later on). "But you really should watch where you're going," she adds, her voice curt.
"I'm so sorry," he offers, smiling one of his charming smiles at her in hopes that she might not be too mad. "I was just—I'm frustrated and I'm getting a headache and…" he pauses, realizing that he's babbling and shakes his head. "I'm so sorry."
"It's alright," she says, nodding. "I know IKEA is kind of overwhelming sometimes." She gives him a smile now, and he notices how more beautiful she is when she smiles. She probably notices how desperate he is because she offers, "What is it you're looking for, maybe I can help?"
He shakes his head and lifts the box that is already in his hand, which he has forgotten in his search of the mischievous little boy. "I already have what I came here for," he says. "However I am now looking for something I came here with."
Her eyebrow shoots up again and she asks, "Lost your wallet?" she asks as her lips split into a grin full of mirth. Her blue eyes sparkle and for a moment he feels like his breath is caught in his throat.
Um, what is going on here?
"No," he says with a shake of his head. "I lost my cousin's son, actually." He chuckles at the surprised look on her face. Her eyes widen, and it's almost comical, but she still looks lovely, and his chuckle fades into a soft smile. "He ran away from me, sadly, and now I'm spending my whole bloody time looking for him and this store is just huge. Not to mention it's a great place for him to go play hide and seek with me." He shakes his head at this.
She laughs along with him, and her laugh is delightful—soft and tinkle-y, like wind chimes and everything nice and beautiful that he's known. "How old is he?" she asks.
"Five," he answers and then describes the boys looks, how tall he is, his hair, what he's wearing. "His name is Patrick." Then he looks at her inquisitively, the request now at the tip of his tongue, but he hesitates. He doesn't even know her name. When she asks 'What', he opens his mouth and says, "Would it be so terrible of me to ask for your help in looking for him? I'm afraid I already have a headache and I've searched the store, walked the aisles twice, and still can't find him."
She again raises her eyebrows at him, and for a moment he feels like he's been too forward. He is ready to retract his words when she grins and nods. "Sure," she says. "My brother's looking for some things I'm not particularly interested about, so why not help you find your nephew, to pass the time?"
He smiles gratefully at her, relieved. "Thank you so much," he says. He fishes his phone out of his pocket and shows her a picture of the boy. "This is what he looks like, just uh, yell if you find him?" He scratches his head at that idea but wouldn't it be so forward to give her his number now? "Or I can give you my phone number, and you can give me yours so I can call you if either of us finds him?" He almost kicks himself when he hears the words stumble from his mouth.
That sounds like a line.
How stupid is he?
This is a serious case of a foot in the mouth disease.
She's going to think that he's a creep now.
She looks at him as though he's offended her, and he is almost ready to apologize to her, but she just nods her head. "That's a good idea," she says. And then she hands him her phone and waits patiently as he taps his number in. He hands her his phone and she does the same. "There you go. Let's start looking now, shall we? We won't want him to wreak havoc in the store." She laughs at this and he smiles.
But god, oh god, if she only knew how true her statement is.
"Wait," he calls to her when she is about to walk away from him. She turns to him with a questioning look. "What's your name?" he asks, stuttering. "For the contact name." And he knows how lame that sounds, but it is true, half truth, yes, but still true.
She smiles at him. "I'm Cora. Cora Levinson," she says. "And you are?"
"Robert, Robert Crawley," he says with an answering grin of his own.
He watches as her smile widens before she turns back around and starts walking away. Immediately, he taps her name on his phone and saves her number. Maybe, while he's here in New York for business, he'll give her a call. Maybe they can become friends. (Or something more, but doesn't let his mind dwell on that.)
Maybe.
Later, while he's busy looking for Patrick in the store, his phone buzzes. He looks at the caller ID and it reads Cora Levinson. He picks it up eagerly and listens as she says she's found his nephew and she tells him where they are waiting.
He walks quickly to where they are, and a few meters away he sees her, his nephew right beside him, her smile big and contagious that he finds himself smiling too.
Maybe this isn't a wasted trip after all.
Fin
5/28/15
Prompt: "I lost my little sibling in Ikea and I need your help finding them"
A/N: Visit my tumblr, check the prompt list tag, and leave an ask or leave a prompt on the reviews!