2 The Start of a Misunderstanding

"My name is…" Harris hadn't given his name to anyone but a new colleague in years, and even then it was only ever his code-name, and that made him hesitate, strangely overwhelmed. "Harris Harper." He gave himself another moment before he took the plunge. "I knew your father a long time ago and I thought I recognized you." It was the truth, for the most part. Harris was proud of that.

Better yet, it worked. Joshua continued to look skeptical, but he loosened his grip and backed off, letting Harris go. Harris missed his heat immediately, then scolded himself roundly for it. "And now you just happen to be walking my way?" Joshua asked.

"Precisely."

"You don't exactly belong out here, bruv."

Harris glanced around and was forced to agree. He contained a sigh, though just barely. Part of being unnoticeable was that he didn't have to worry about looking out of place in his fancy suit- and since he was unlikely to be robbed or otherwise harassed he didn't generally think too much about where he was. But Joshua was right; they were not in a part of the city where someone who looked like Harris generally spent his time.

Harris searched for an excuse and eventually found one. "I've been away for a while," he said. If 'away' could be understood to mean, 'not strictly alive', this too was true. "But there's a place I used to eat at not from here." Technically it was so long ago that Harris could hardly remember it, but the streets did seem familiar. "I wanted to see if it was still open."

Joshua relaxed even further, but said, "Show me."

Harris prayed that his memory of the place in question would lead him correctly, and happily it did. The pub looked very different than it had the last time Harris had been there- the paint on the sign was chipping away, a sharp drop in clientele was suggested by how empty it was, and it had undoubtedly changed ownership a few times- but at least it was still there. Harris gave Joshua what he hoped was a vindicated look. "There you are," Harris said. "So." For a moment both of them just stood, awkwardly, by the door. "Have lunch with me?"

"You're a fucking weirdo," Joshua said, but he went inside. Harris followed him.

The food was inexpensive, but Harris still offered to pay. Joshua looked uncomfortable- clearly torn between knowing that Harris really should pay and not wanting to owe him. Harris couldn't very well remind Joshua that he had spent almost all the money he had in the bookshop just now without making Joshua think that Harris was following him again, so he tried a different tack: "It's because of me you're even here, isn't it?"

Joshua rolled his eyes at that, but he still looked suspicious. "I don't owe you nothing if you do," he said.

"Of course not."

Something about the way Harris sounded legitimately offended seemed to thaw Joshua further, and he let Harris pay for the food.

They sat down at a table by the window, and Harris glanced out, searching for something to end the rather oppressive silence. "Good weather we've been having," he said at last. He had lost his knack for talking about inconsequential things a long time ago, but Joshua snorted and there was something about the very awkwardness of the remark that made him drop his guard even further, so Harris couldn't consider the remark a complete failure.

"Look," Joshua said, humor in his voice now, "who are you?"

"I told you," Harris said. "My name is Harris. I… work in a tailor's shop. Your father was… he was a customer many years ago and I thought perhaps I recognized you. You resemble him, you know."

Joshua nodded like he'd been told that before. "When did my dad have to go to a tailors?" he asked.

"For his wedding," Harris answered. It was a bit of a stretch of the truth, but since Harris was the reason he had met Michelle and come to get married in the first place it was close enough. "To your mother."

"You know he's dead, right?" Joshua said.

"I'm sorry for it." Harris meant it. His job was the romantic happily ever after. The fact that he had no power over what came 'after' that had always troubled him. "He struck me as a good man."

Joshua's smile changed his face, made him look so much younger.

Harris kept quiet for a moment, turning his attention to his meal. The sight of Harris poking at the greasy, paper-wrapped fish in his nice suit seemed to amuse Joshua, and his smile widened. Harris- well, Harris 'could' eat but he didn't need to, and thus rarely did. It had been such a long time since he'd simply had lunch with someone- and perhaps longer still since anyone had smiled at him like that, even if it was just because they thought him silly. Harris decided he might as well to press the advantage. "I really wasn't following you."

"Liar," Joshua said, but Harris could still hear traces of humor in his voice.

"I assure you I have no nefarious intentions."

Joshua actually laughed at that one, shaking his head to himself, and then he applied himself to his lunch. They both finished eating in silence.

When Joshua rose Harris did the same, saying, "May I see you home?"

"Yeah, no," Joshua said.

Harris knew better than to not accept the answer, so he just nodded and said "Goodbye, then." Joshua rolled his eyes again and turned away, heading for the door. Harris sat back down so Joshua could leave without feeling pursued. Once he was outside, Joshua half turned, looked back at Harris through the window, gave a little snort and then went on his way again. A moment later he was gone, probably under the impression that he would never see Harris again.