Act of Kindness (closed)

[PollySays]

Closed for Scuttle Buttin'

It was a typical Monday, suits and business skirts filling the tiny foyer of the Last Bean coffee shop. Molly had worked here since the start of college, and with her final semester at the local community classes coming to an end soon, she had been trying to earn those extra hours and charm out those tips from coffee sippers. She had come to know the regulars who stopped in, the orders they always placed. The little smiley faces added with wax pencil on paper cups, the little nicknames to make them smirk. Three extra bucks. A ten from the old guy who walked in at 5:45 every morning.

"Pick up the pace, Moll! 2 more double frap, extra cream!"
"Right, got it!" Too warm back here today. Her head was wandering . She preferred to work the counter. Thankfully, she was able to get to the front with her dropoff, Marcy giving a stare at the door, then the clock. "What's up with you?," Molly laughed, picking up her own little cup of chocolate milk and sipping.

"It's almost 9. Your buddy should be here soon."
Molly set her cup back down, looking between the same spots herself. "He's not my buddy," she replied softly. "He's just a repeat customer I talk to a bit."
"Flirt with."
"Listen, I need the tips, okay?"

But she knew she was right. He was due in at any moment. Taking up one of the medium brown paper cups, she headed for the machines, getting his usual ready.

He was a nice fellow, she figured. Nice, but perhaps a bit odd. Everyone had their quirks, she supposed. He seemed to like when she was nice to him, and there had been a few smiles back.

Everyone deserved a smile in their morning.
Molly finished prepping his cup, adding the little smile to the cup and setting it on the counter, along with a muffin on a little brown plate.

"Free muffin this time, huh?"
"Shush."

Molly glanced at the door again. Yes, he was a bit. Curious.
But she found it so fascinating. Him so fascinating.


--------
Molly Warner
Age 22

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

Levi Harris stood in his kitchen, staring a line of Post-It notes on one of the cupboard doors, trying to remember where his train of thought had been going before he ran out and couldn't write anymore. There was something about 9/11 and the number of floors in the Sears Tower in Chicago, followed by two out of three theories on what the three numbers added together were supposed to mean. He just couldn't remember what the third one was. A birth date? A time of death? Combination to a lock holding important information? None of it felt right.

Sighing in frustration, he raked fingers back through his wild hair and looked at the time on the small white microwave, thinking perhaps caffeine - and Molly - was what he needed to clear his head and figure out where his train of thought was heading before it was irritatingly derailed. He needed to run to Target (never Wal-Mart, the multinationalist bastards hid their real agenda behind that fucking smiley face) and get some more Post-It's and a couple markers anyway.

Leaving the kitchen, he stepped into a faded pair of jeans and a t-shirt, stopping on the way past the bathroom to run a brush through his hair. A typical futile gesture, only this time it paid off as he saw the green Post-It stuck on the mirror with Buy rope, neckties, and duct tape scribbled with a clearly dying marker. He couldn't remember why he'd need them, but if it was a note stuck in the bathroom it was important, and so he snatched it off and stuck it in his pocket for later.

The coffee shop was only a couple blocks away, so Levi ignored the bike and decided to go on foot. He had a small car parked in the garage behind his house, but he rarely drove it, certain every penny of gas he put into it was only going to a dictator that used the money to build his nuclear arsenal. Twenty minutes later he was at the front door of the Last Bean - a name that always gave him a moment of panic that they'd be out of coffee - and when he saw her through the glass door he remembered it wasn't caffeine he'd needed.

It was Molly.

They were going to be married someday. They hadn't set a date or anything, and since she'd met him as a customer she couldn't freely talk about it, but their love was a true, pure one. Her work hours were currently unfortunate, to the point that he couldn't remember how long it had been since she'd made it to his place before he'd fallen asleep, and always she was gone without a trace when he woke up the next morning. But when she was there, that was when he was truly happy.

And the sex was amazing. She seemed to know his body like it was her own, always knowing just what he needed, just what would make him cry out in the silent darkness of his bedroom. But she was a careful girl, his Molly, and so he was never allowed to cum inside her. Not until after they were married, she told him. It often led to a mess, and almost every morning after she'd spent the night with him he had to change his sheets. But it was worth it.

Pulling open the door, he inhaled the strong coffee aroma deeply, a broad and happy smile blossoming on his lips when her eyes met his. He knew she'd be happy to see him, just as she always was, and he was just as happy to see her. He'd tip her well, the only way he really had to show his affection while she was at work, but since they were to be married her money would become his, and his hers, so it mattered little.

Besides, he was quite wealthy, though he didn't yet share this with her. Six years earlier, just after he'd turned 20, his parents were killed when a driver for one of the largest trucking companies in the nation had fallen asleep, crossed the median, and hit them head on. The pain of the loss focused Levi, and he managed to find a good lawyer, who exposed terrible practices in court and netted a large settlement for the family. Levi, it turned out, was the only family left. Without realizing they were doing so, the court awarded $15 million dollars to a crazy person.

The knowledge that she'd never have to work at the Last Bean again was going to be Levi's wedding present to her. He couldn't wait to see her face when he told her. Only $5 million remained of the initial $15 million, due mostly to terrible investments and even worse impulse purchases, but he at least owned his small two bedroom house instead of a bank. He only really remember that more than 2/3rds of the money was gone when the monthly bank statements came, but they were quickly burned lest anyone steal his identity. He never made notes on those, in case anyone broke in and saw them.

But he trusted Molly. Approaching the counter, still smiling broadly, he nodded to one of her coworkers then quickly turned his attention to her, his voice bright and friendly.

"Good morning, Molly," he said, brow arching in a slightly knowing way, "Sleep well last night?"

 

[PollySays]

And there he was. Her bedheaded, slightly wildeyed regular. She knew his name, but never bothered to write it on his cups anymore. She really didn't need to. It wasn't like anyone else would give it to him. Molly was the one to take his order, make his order, present his order. Levi seemed to have no interest in talking to the others behind the counter, but gave her a big smile each time. It took her awhile to even get that from him. But the day she learned his name, the day she got him to smile, that seemed to change everything.

She had become someone's regular. She liked that.

"Good morning, hun!" Molly gave him a big smile, pushing over the cup and plate to him as he approached the counter. Her grin grew a bit more as he asked on her night, shrugging a bit. "Oh, right as rain, I suppose. Slept the whole night like a baby. I bought one of those mini air conditioners? Guess I really needed that!"

She paused, pointing to the plate. "I thought you might like that. We had some extras from yesterday, they taste fine, but we don't put them out for the new day. I figured you might like something sweet to start your morning."

He had messy hands. Covered in ink. She noticed them every time he came in. She figured he must have been an artist, some type of sketcher. All that ink, sometimes smudged into his cheek so obliviously. None on his face today, but paths of blue and black against the sides of both hands. Big project. "You know what? I think. I think I will take a quick break myself, right now." She turned around, refilling her milk before flipping up the counter's pathway, slipping through and dropping it back down. As she walked over to a table, she pulled the top of her apron down over her neck, letting it hang freely over her legs. Taking one of the seats, she glanced at him, still smiling softly. "It feels nice to sit. I've been at it since about 5 this morning. It get so hot in that back room too! All the ovens going at the same time." She shook her head, taking another long drink of her milk before looking over to him. A little laugh left her lips, setting the cup down and smiling slightly. "Every time. Every morning, you come in, with that hair. I just. Here, you know what? Let me." She suddenly sat up a bit more, leaning over the table to tousle her fingers against the mess of locks, studying him over before pulling it back. "Well, at least I tried." She smiled again, picking her paper cup back up. "It fits you though, really. A messy head is usually a sign of a busy mind. You seem the type to always have a headful of thoughts, Levi."

"Yo! Molls! What the hell?!" The shout from the back was enough to make her cringe, cradling her cup tightly in her fingertips and giving him an apologetic glance. "The slavedriver noticed," She explained jokingly, getting up and patting his arm as she circled back around him. "Enjoy your muffin, hun! I need to get back to the grind! Literally." She winked at him, realizing as she walked back to the counter that her playful nicknames and flirtings were possibly coming off a touch too heavy. No. He had to know the difference, right?

Pulling her apron back up, she took the pile of dirty plates and ceramic cups from the counter, bringing them to the back. "You know, that was rather rude! He is one of our regulars. What's wrong with me talking to him?"

"Guy weirds me out." Her boss glanced over the prepstation to her, shaking his head.
"Oh come on! He's an artist! Did you see his hands? He's always got something all over them. He's probably so wrapped up in his projects all the time, and he's nice to me. I don't know what you're problem is." She sent the dishes into the washer, grabbing up a towel as her boss nodded towards a stack of freshly cleaned items.

"Yeah. Maybe. Grab those, would ya?" He started back up front, making sure she was behind him as he carried more baked goods up. "Listen, I got'a run to the bank but I have a shipment coming in, probably in an hour or so. I need you to go to the back and meet the guy. Now make sure you actually put the block at the door this time. You know they can't hear you when you lock yourself out like last time."

"I know." Molly mumbled in response, frowning a bit. "I can handle that."
"Yeah." Her boss shrugged, picking up the big brown bag from the counter. "Just be careful, okay? And don't break anything, Molly!"

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

The muffin was a pleasant surprise, but when you were going to be marrying the girl giving it to you, it wasn't that big of a surprise, right? He shared a knowing grin with her at the mention of the air conditioner she bought, entertained by the creative covers she'd found to use as a means of hiding their relationship.

Lifting the offered plate, he smiled broadly at her, his other hand closing around the warm cup she had waiting for him. "Well thank you. That's... you know, sweet of you," he said, laughing quietly at his own pun.

When she mentioned joining him for her break his brows rose in pleasant surprise, a nod of the head following close behind. "That'd be great, yeah!" His eyes fluttered in resistance then dropped as she turned to refill her cup, stealing a glance at her body before darting back up to be on her face when she turned around. He always had to be careful not to give them away lest she lose her job and he have to reveal things to her earlier than he wanted. The look on her face when he told her, though... he couldn't wait.

Sliding into a seat across from her, his long and ink-stained fingers tore a piece from the muffin and popped it into his mouth as he listened to her talk about her morning. He couldn't help but to think about mornings just like this one, perhaps in this same little coffee shop, only they'd walk down together, hand in hand, share a muffin, plan out their day. Or maybe just get something to eat before walking back to his house (their house!) to make love all day. The fact that she didn't even give a second thought to the notes scattered around his house, his way of keeping his thoughts straight, only made him want her that much more.

With a grin on his lips, he glanced towards the back room she'd complained of being so hot, nodding his head in that direction when his eyes returned to her. "You know, you could just bring that new air conditioner here, maybe it'd help cool it off back there for you." His fingers pulled off another piece of the muffin, but he waited to pop it in his mouth as she lifted from her chair and reached across the table, her fingers in his messed hair a touch he was not expecting.

He froze, unsure how to react, surprised that she'd do something so overt in view of customers and coworkers alike. Her fingers felt great touching him, though, and he was reminded of the way she'd laid on his chest just the other night while he stroked her own hair and listened to her sleep. He was grinning brightly when she sat back down, dropping the piece of muffin between his lips and then brushing his own fingertips over his hair with a small laugh.

"Yeah, it does seem to have a mind of it's own. I used to-" His words were cut off by her manager yelling from the back, and he winced slightly, certain he'd seen them and they were about to be outed. Her hand on his arm calmed his fears a little, and he nodded, a little smile returning to his lips.

"Thanks, Molly. I'll see you later."

He realized only a moment too late that he'd missed her joke, and he shook his head as she walked to the back, mentally kicking himself for not catching it sooner. He only hoped she didn't think he wasn't paying attention to her. He'd have to explain it to her later that night.

Without her there any longer, he ate the muffin quickly and set the plate atop a collection of others waiting to be gathered for cleaning by Molly or one of her coworkers. With a glance towards the back, where he could hear her voice but, as if her boss wanted to torment him, he couldn't see her. He hesitated for a moment, coffee cup still in hand, and then gave up and made his way out of the Last Bean and back into the growing sunshine.

Levi's pace to the Target was casual, and he sipped his coffee absently as he let his thoughts drift. A bank clock flashing the date, complete with the fateful year, 2012, made him realize that once more he'd not remembered to ask Molly if she had a disaster kit for when the American government fell and chaos gripped the world. He didn't believe any of the Mayan bullshit, only crazy people did. No, Levi knew it was simply a distraction from what was really going on. A stack of Post-It notes three inches deep rested in a desk drawer with the whole thing laid out, from the coming appointment of a Dark Pope to the rise of the One World Government.

Levi was ready. Once Molly was with him, she'd be ready too. Together, they'd survive it.

Money would be useless, of course, but until then it would allow him to buy the things they'd need to make it through and emerge on the other side safe, happy, and together. He didn't know how he had managed to get a girl like Molly - off the top of his head, he couldn't even remember when he'd managed to get her, either - but he knew she would make him happy. And he would keep her safe. Informed. Protected.

Stepping into the cool air of the brightly lit Target, Levi grabbed a cart in an irritating red color and then realized he couldn't remember why he was here. A note. He had to have a note somewhere. Checking his pockets, he sighed in relief as he came across a folded Post-It stuck in one pocket, and he opened it to read his scribbles.

Buy rope, neckties, and duct tape.

Added in a pencil he hadn't noticed earlier were the words:

Also six packs of Sharpies, various colors.

He hated pencils with a fucking passion, the urge to break every pencil he saw sometimes too much to resist, and so the fact that he'd used one to add that note meant he must really be out of Sharpies. He'd have to be more careful in the future, notes in nothing but pencils would drive him to be insane. And who in their right mind would want to be stuck in that hell?

He didn't know what he needed the items for, but he trusted his notes as he'd done for many years, and he knew in one of three important places back home would be a note telling him what he needed them for. Post-Its were the one thing he never had to make a note of, because he bought them anytime he saw them. Running out of those would be utter disaster.

Less than a half hour later, Levi was walking back with two bags in each hand. The bank clock told him it was closing in on 10:30, which meant Molly would be getting off work before too much longer. It felt like something about that was significant, but he couldn't remember any plans they had. Was he supposed to meet her somewhere? Her place, maybe? He thought he had her address on a Post-It, but he couldn't be sure. Or maybe it wasn't that at all. Maybe she was supposed to come back to his place. The curiosity until he got home was going to be irritating.

Why did he need to be ready when Molly was off work?

 

[PollySays]

The horn went off. Molly looked up to the clock in a panic. "Already?! Oh, no! Come on, I've still got those cinnamon rolls in and. Ah! Tiffany, watch the oven, I'll be right back!" She hastily ran to the back door, kicking it open with a flustered look on her face and a bowl of pastry dough in hand.

"I'm so sorry. I really thought you would be here so much later. Well, I knew you were coming, but it didn't seem as late as it is, and I just thought I had more time, and things are really getting warm." She paused, taking a deep breath, stepping out onto the dock area as the hefty fellow worked open his own truck's back door, barely seeming to notice the rambling girl on the steps.

"Door, kid."

The two grunted words were let out as he hoisted a giant bag of flour up onto his shoulder, jabbing a thick finger back over her shoulder. Molly looked at him blankly, then shrieked softly as she realized the issue. The brick! "No, no-no-no!," she cried, hastily setting down the bowl to try and grab it.

Too late.
She spun around.
And caught air.
-WHAM!

"Shit." She sighed, resting her head against the heavy metal door and groaning. "You may as well put that back, sir. My phone's inside. I can't open this."

"Huh." He grunted again, dropping the bag back down, and shrugging. "Shoddy system you got, kid." He dropped himself onto the back of the truck, the entire vehicle almost bouncing over the impact. Molly hopped off the edge of the stairway, trudging off down the backways of the line of shops for the small walking way that led back up front. How stupid, stupid, could she be? To go and let the thing slam shut like that, especially after being warned on it.

She paused, glancing down the street a bit.
"Levi?"
He had two bags in his hand, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. Off in one of his artist's hazes again? She wondered if he even recognized her out of the shop, like students and teachers. You can't exist outside that building, it's impossible!

"Levi!" She nodded, certain it was him now. The crazy hair. Yep, her usual. "Levi, oh thank goodness. I did something so incredibly stupid. I locked myself out of the back room, and the crew can't hear me. I know, my boss told me to keep it open with the brick. You probably heard all that. Could you do me a giant favor? The driver's.. well. He's a bit of a lazy prick so far. Could you do me a giant favor and go ask Tiff to open the door back up? I just don't want him to-"

She paused, seeing the delivery truck pulling out from the far end of the alley.
"Oh, that bastard-!!" She groaned again, running a hand against her face. "I just wanted to go home. Get this all over and done with and just go home. I am exhausted." She glanced back at him, smiling at that lost look he seemed to hold so often. He almost seemed lost in another world of his own. "Sometimes I wish I could just go there with you," She noted softly, shaking her head. "want to come with me? I need to go get that bowl I. Ah. Dropped. Oh, I hope I didn't dent it." She made a little chagrined face at the thought, starting back down the walk way. "If I'm already locked out, may as well make the most of it with a walk, right?" She tried to smile, shrugging slightly.