Title: No Show

Warnings: None

Summary: Alfred can't help but notice the lonely man in the corner of the restaurant.

The summer between our sophomore and junior year of college, my brother Matthew and I applied to work at this fancy French café downtown. The owner was actually Matthew's French professor who ran the place whenever he wasn't down at the university giving lectures. He seemed to like my brother, and so the two of us sought out some easy jobs. Francis, the owner and head chef, hired us in no time flat, and after learning how to walk straight and poised, and learning how to be a "proper" waiter, I was quickly serving fancy French food whose names I couldn't even pronounce.

"Matt, come on the place is empty! Let me goooo," I whined one Tuesday night in July. "You know I've gotta do that thing… for ya know that class..."

My brother just rolled his eyes as he stacked a few menus to his right.

"It's summer, Alfred. You're not taking any classes."

I rested an arm on the podium where he waited for guests to arrive and pouted. Well yeah, that was true, I didn't really have anything I needed to do, but there were certainly things I wanted to do. I puffed out my bottom lip and pulled out the puppy dog eyes.

"Come on, Matt! Let me off early! There's no one here anyway!"

That actually managed to worry Matt. He shushed me, not so discreetly, and hit me with a menu. He sent me an annoyed look and leaned in closer to whisper in my ear.

"Alfred, shut up! We clearly have a customer!"

He made a motion to the back of the cafe, where a blonde man in a suit sat rigidly alone at a table for two. I frowned and looked back to Matt, responding in my own angry murmur.

"But he's been there for like two hours and he hasn't even ordered yet! Come on, Matt. Just this onc-"

"No."

My shoulders fell and I glared at my brother.

"You suck."

"Yep, now go ask him if he'd like anything."

I trudged off toward the back the restaurant, with my pen and pad in hand, and an annoyed look on my face. As I neared the man, he turned eagerly, and immediately deflated when he saw it was just the waiter.

"Sir, would you like to order now?" I asked in my trained voice, laced in fake courtesy.

He spared a desperate glance at me and frowned again, turning his tired green eyes back to the table.

"No, I'm waiting for someone. They'll be meeting me here soon."

My mouth formed a line and I couldn't help feel just a bit concerned for this guy. He was young, maybe a little older than Mattie and I, but definitely not old. He was done up, wearing a nice gray suit with the a pale green dress shirt and a vibrantly emerald tie. But I won't lie, I'm pretty oblivious and I probably would have thought this was any random guy waiting for a friend or business partner had I not seen the bouquet of roses settled tentatively in his lap.

"You're sure I can't get you anything to drink? We have a fantastic selection of French wines to choose from."

I bounced on the balls of my feet, trying to look friendly and hoping the poor guy would just order something. We all have those terrible days, and I felt the need to stay by him, regardless of the fact that we didn't even know each other. When he looked back up at me, I smiled brightly, trying to be a friendly light, but that only worked to upset him.

"No thank you. I'll just wait until he gets here."

Well that caught me off guard. Hell I put two and two together and figured out he'd been stood up, but that was a curveball.

"Of course."

I nodded and headed back up to the front, no longer annoyed with my brother, but feeling a bit put out. I felt bad for the lonely man in the corner, and suddenly had a guilty feeling swishing around in my stomach, knowing that I too had ignored him earlier.

"Al? What's up?" Matt questioned when I got back up to the desk. He was like lightning when it came to reading me. I'd always thought I kept my emotions pretty inconspicuous, but Matthew could always read me like a book.

I bit my lip as I considered telling my brother. I knew it was taboo to talk about customers behind their backs, but I really did feel the need to tell someone. I cocked me head toward the lonesome man and again leaned in to speak softly.

"That guy over there, I know why he's been here for so long," I said, trying my best to not sound too gossipy. "He's been stood up."

Apparently it didn't work because Matthew sent me a disapproving glare.

"Alfred, what did I tell you about assuming things?"

"But it's true!" I struggled, wanting to use my hands to gesticulate my point, but not wanting to draw attention to myself. "He's got a bouquet of roses, Matt. And he's been all alone in that corner just waiting. It's not that hard to piece together!"

"Alfred."

"He just looks so damn lonely, Matt, like he's still hanging onto the idea that his date is gonna show up, when really... the guy's not gonna show."

For a moment the implications of the word "guy" caught Matthew's attention, but he quickly shook it off, and sent me another look like he was chastising a child.

"Don't meddle in strangers affairs, Al. You could be completely misreading the situation."

"Oh yeah? Who shows up to a fancy restaurant with a bouquet of flowers, and a nice pressed suit, and then sits in the corner, depressed for so long? Someone who's been stood up, that's who."

Matthew sighed, clearly irritated, but I didn't really care.

"Maybe he's waiting for his brother. Or a friend."

I raised a brow at my twin.

"When do I ever greet you with roses?"

Matt just rolled his eyes and went back to his hostess duties.

"Al, make yourself useful in the meantime and wrap up more silverware in napkins," he said, smoothly changing the subject.

"Aww Matt, no! You know I hate that!"

He sent me a tired look and ran a hand through his hair.

"Would you like to clean the bathroom instead?"

I ran off to find some clean forks and knives.

An hour later I had a basket full of silverware, and that lonely blonde man was still sitting by himself in the corner of the restaurant. I noticed how every time someone walked by the window, or if Matt or I moved around the restaurant, he would turn ecstatically, only to be disappointed. By this point it was 10 o'clock at night, and he'd been sitting there abandoned for three hours. At ten past the hour I couldn't take it anymore, so I went into the kitchen and fetched the sweetest thing I could find.

"Oh, ehm, I didn't order this," the man said startled, as I placed a plate with a fresh éclair in front of him. I pulled out the chair across the table and took a seat.

"I know. It's on the house."

He looked at me confused a moment like he didn't understand my act of kindness. I wondered for a moment how many times this guy had been taken advantage of, because he certainly looked like he'd gone through his fair share of crap.

"Well thank you," he replied hesitantly, unwrapping a napkin and placing it in his lap. He took his fork and uneasily cut a piece of the éclair. An awkward quiet settled in between us, and as he raised his forkful to his mouth, he paused midway with a sudden intrigue.

"I know that I've been here for quite some time, but I meant to ask, did you maybe receive any phone calls to the restaurant requesting an Arthur? Perhaps he forgot my phone number and looked up the restaurant instea-"

"Hey, man, I don't want you to take this too harshly, but I really don't think he's coming."

I tried to let the man down gently, but is melancholy was obvious as he visibly deflated, shoulders slouching, and eyes dulling with reality.

"I know," he whispered, though I'm not sure if it was to me or himself. "It was silly of me to wait this long."

He gently put his fork back down and rose from his seat, roughly throwing the bouquet of roses to the ground.

"It was bloody ridiculous of me to think he'd come! Who would? It's perfectly understandable."

He started fishing through his wallet and a moment later pulled out a fifty dollar bill.

"Here, this should cover the dessert and any trouble I may have caused. I'm so sorry."

When I didn't reach out to take the money, he placed it under a salt shaker and started out towards the door. I didn't realize what I was doing before I had my hand around his wrist and was pulling him back toward the table. He sent me a sideways glance, and I just smiled and said the first thing that came to mind.

"Hey at least finish the éclair. It's getting docked from my pay check for sure, so it should at least go to a good cause."

I let out a barking laugh, and for the first time that evening I saw the man smile slightly. I let go of his arm and he followed me back to the table.

"I really do appreciate your kindness," he said as I pulled his chair out for him and then retook mine across the table.

"Hey, we've all gotta help each other out. It's nothing really." I sent him a grin, and he sent me one right back. He stuck out his hand from under the table, and I shook it willingly.

"My name's Arthur Kirkland. I don't believe I caught yours?"

"Oh I'm Alfred! Though I'm sometimes referred to as the world's best waiter."

He let out a small chuckle and I smiled, feeling happier knowing I'd brightened somebody's day. In a moment, I reached down and grabbed at the fallen bouquet of flowers. I handed them to him and hoped I wouldn't come off as too strong or creepy.

"For you," I said, and he just stared at me completely perplexed.

"Excuse me?"

"You shouldn't waste such beautiful flowers," I insisted until he took the slightly tousled bouquet from my hands.

The bemused look didn't leave his face, and I took that short and still moment to get a good look at my new friend. He was of average height, with choppy light blonde hair and had those very vibrant green eyes I'd noticed earlier. He was also packing some pretty heavy eyebrows, not unattractive, but rather the bushy brows seemed to fit him quite well.

"I'll be right back," I said shortly as I stood and made my way to the wine cellar. I came back with the cheapest bottle of Merlot we had, because honestly, Francis would have killed me if I took anything else.

"Care for a drink?"

I didn't wait for an answer before I used my professional wine-bottle-opening skills and poured us each a glass. I retook my seat, and he raised a brow as he lifted the cup to his lips.

"Are you old enough to drink?" he said with a smile playing on his lips, and I proceeded to tell him that yes, my birthday had been last week, and I'd already drunk enough alcohol to last me a few years.

Arthur was remarkably easy to talk to, and before I even knew it, an hour had slipped by and the bottle had been emptied. At some point Matthew had come over and told me I could go home, but I shook him off and settled back into my conversation with Arthur.

"You actually expect me to believe that the British version of the Office is better?"

"Well it is the original," he replied his voice slightly higher thanks to the alcohol. "The original is always better."

"Bullshit."

I don't know why that was funny, but we both broke out laughing and when Arthur let loose a hiccup after finishing his third glass of wine we laughed even more.

By half past midnight I'd gotten Arthur's phone number; a not so subtle inclination that we'd be meeting again. We left the restaurant, waving our goodbyes and I didn't think much of it as I made my way home and fell face first into my mattress.

I slept till about noon the next day, not thinking much of what had happened the day before. The day was wasted away, playing videogames and napping till at about 4:30 when I pulled on my uniform and got ready for my shift. As per usual, I made my way to the restaurant but this time something felt different. Matt was there getting ready and Francis was cooking up something in the kitchen when I walked in, but alone in that little corner sat Arthur Kirkland who smiled and waved the moment I stepped through the door. Only this time I knew why he was here.

And this time he would not be stood up.