Title:Early Morning Distractions
Genre: K+ Starts out Angst, but who knows how it will end?
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Summary:Like Kyle said, Tom Foss is lonely. But would it be a good thing or bad thing if he wasn't?
A/N: I was so sad at last episode's scene of a miserable Fosse in bed staring at the photograph, so I ran with this scenario.
Every time he woke up, the first thing Tom Foss remembered was that he was lonely. He hadn't needed a genius like Kyle to tell him that. Emma, his wife, and Zoe, his daughter were gone these past ten years. But their absence was like a physical pain that made him want to stay in bed forever.
Those moments between dreaming and waking were the best and worst times for Tom. If he kept his eyes closed, he could almost smell his Emma's shampoo: rosemary and mint. He could arise from the bed facing out and pretend in the morning quiet that he could still hear his wife's delicate snores.
Yes, those moments were bittersweet; he could believe that his wife was alive, ready to wake their child and start their day. But then he would inevitably remember the accident and the funeral, and then the pain would come rushing unexpected, overpowering him.
With the sun still hidden, it was a chore to get out of bed. Without Emma and Zoe, sometimes Tom would think, what's the point? But Tom did get out of bed. He needed to meet the boy. Without Adam, his murdered friend, directing his days, Tom had made it his mission in life to look after Kyle.
He quickly suppressed the thought he was using the boy as a reason to get out of bed. He knew that it was unfair and it was unhealthy to put such a burden on one so young. But Tom knew he needed a purpose, a distraction if you will, to ignore the silence of the loneliness he keenly felt. With a last look at the portrait of his girls, he made the bed and started to plan his day's schedule, a schedule solely centered around Kyle. Yes, definitely unhealthy, reflected Tom in a moment of self-clarity
XY XY XY
After a satisfying training session with Kyle, Tom decided to get his breakfast at the third nearest Starbucks. He knew it was an ironic place for him to go. The smugness of suburban normalcy that exuded from the store irritated him: he had lost his chance at normal ten years ago. But the shop was one of the last places he hadn't entered; to avoid surveillance, he refused to habit a particular store nor settle upon a predictable routine.
But working with Kyle under the dreary Seattle weather, he wanted a good breakfast and a hot coffee, and he wanted them right now. Entering the busy store despite the early hour, the cheery barista called out a ready order, "Extra shot no whip soy Mocha Valencia Grande for Margaret!"
He kept his face was impassive, but internally Tom wanted to roll his eyes. "Venti Extra Whip Low Fat Iced Latte for Krycek!" Why is it necessary to announce the infinite ways a good coffee could be ruined?, thought Tom.
He almost turned around to leave in disgust, but just then the too-cheery barista bellowed, "Double Espresso and blueberry muffin for Emma!"
At that name, Tom couldn't resist the urge to stare at the woman who shared the same name as his wife. Intellectually he knew that double-espresso Emma couldn't possibly be his Emma, but still he needed to see for himself.
Tom could hardly stop staring. From the back, double-espresso Emma was the same height and frame as his Emma! Double-espresso Emma had the same dark shade of hair as his Emma, the same sensible manicure, and even the same plucked eyebrows. Tom let himself stare and gave in to the brief momentary pleasure of believing his wife was meeting him here at Starbucks before her morning classes.
Unfortunately the same powers of observations that makes Tom so good at his job, also immediately noticed the differences: Double-espresso Emma had wavy hair, not straight like his Emma; double-espresso Emma had chocolate brown eyes, not sapphire blue; also not the same chin; double-espresso Emma did not have the same open smile that his wife greeted strangers and friends alike; double-espresso Emma's was self-contained and expressionless.
A little lonely perhaps, like me? Tom gave a wry smile at the random thought. It was that smile that greeted double espresso Emma as she turned from the pick-up counter. She paused and returned the look with a nod, as politely as un-introduced strangers could when unintentional eye contact was involved.
Tom could tell that the eye contact shocked double-espresso Emma with its intensity. Tom realized that his pseudo-recognition stare was being misinterpreted as attraction by double-espresso Emma.
And she wouldn't be entirely wrong either, mused Tom, she's exactly just my type. For the first time in a long while, Tom was shocked to realize that he was attracted to another woman. He honestly thought such feelings had died at same time his family did. A little dazed, he averted his stare and went to place his order: large drip coffee and a donut.
As he collected his morning fuel, Tom noticed that a blueberry muffin was still at the pick-up counter. He looked around and noticed that double-espresso Emma was sitting in at a corner table with her back to the wall facing the entrance, sans muffin. Tom didn't know what possessed him, but he took the muffin and approached double-espresso Emma.
"Excuse me, miss? I think this is your blueberry muffin…" Argh, Foss! You need a better pick-up line!
"Oh, did I forget?" double-espresso Emma said with a flirty smirk and a raised eyebrow; clearly she didn't forget. "Thank you! Would you like to share my table, the store seems to be full."
Well, that was easy. Tom couldn't resist returning the smile. For a first time in a long, long while, the grip that held his heart numb was loosening up. Amazingly, he actually felt light-hearted! "Thanks..." Tom said laying his donut, and after a pause, he drawled with secret pleasure a name he hadn't said aloud in many years, "… Emma."
Double-espresso Emma made a strange face, but then opened the conversation, "So are you a morning regular?"
Tom didn't want to lie and just said evasively, "The store is by my morning circuit."
"Are you in training or just waking up?"
"Uh-huh" Smooth Foss! She must be impressed by your vast vocabulary!
Mercifully, she continued talking for both of them. "My company just relocated me here. I'm new to Seattle. Is it always this rainy?"
They exchanged mild small talk while she devoured her muffin. He smiled at double-espresso Emma as he continued to differentiate her from his Emma. His Emma would have broken her bran muffin to smaller pieces before eating it. This one bit directly at the muffin, but was careful not to get any crumbs on her clothes. His Emma had a thing about elbows on tables. Double-espresso Emma clearly did not. His Emma always forgot to get extra napkins. Double-espresso Emma had a mini-stack. But instead of disappointing him, the differences made him … , well, not maudlin that she wasn't his Emma. And he realized, that was a good thing.
"Well, I need to hustle to the office, I'll be late…"
Tom felt panicked as she was getting up to leave. He was torn; this was the first woman to make him forget his loneliness. But at the same time his assignments didn't allow for relationships. She must have felt his reluctance to ask for her number, but thankfully, she was more clever at these games than he: "Maybe I'll see you again after your workout tomorrow, um …" She dangled the end of the sentence, clearly asking for a name.
"Tom," Tom's natural caution automatically gave way, as he had an inexplicable urge to hear her say his name, to see if she would say it the same way as his wife.
"Tom," fell from her lips as she held out her hand. She didn't say it the same way, but Tom again did not feel disappointed. He missed his wife, but double-espresso Emma not being his Emma was like a relief. Who knows, this feeling might even be considered emotionally healthy.
The connection that sparked when their hands clasped was more than enough for Tom to decide that he suddenly wanted to frequent this Starbucks, never mind surveillance. He wanted another distraction besides Kyle in his life, dammit! If super weird Kyle could have normal, well then I could try it too!
"Well, I certainly hope to see you again, 'double-espresso-and-blueberry-muffin-Emma'."
She wrinkled her nose at the bad joke, but still smiled, "Actually, it's Emily. The barista got it wrong the first time and I never bothered to correct her. I'm Emily, Emily Hollander."
A/N: Currently a one-shot, but if there is enough interest, I could continue. At the moment, I haven't any idea what are Hollander's motivations. She could be setting a honey trap just like with Nicole, or she could be just as genuinely as lonely and clueless as Foss. (Oh, for those on the know, the intended ship is Krycek/Racetrack. Hee. Get it? Get it? No? oh well…)