Chapter Text
Oh, please, not today.
Maneuvering around a corner, you doubled back to duck your boss. You could almost cry; not that you ever would over something so ridiculous at work. Looking back toward where you had just come, you felt the anxious sweat form on the back of your neck. This hallway only went in one direction and if your boss was already heading this way then surely he was about to run into you.
That was not something you could handle right now.
Clutching your bag tighter to your chest, you pushed off the wall to make a run for it when you heard a coworker call out.
“Oh! Perfect timing, sir. Do you have a second to look at something?”
You heard your boss stutter and your eyes went wide. Who was this prince that stepped in and saved your lunch hour? You wanted to bestow them with a thousand gifts, but you hadn’t heard enough of their voice to identify them. Shoving down the urge to peek, you listened until the two’s conversation slunk away. It meant the coast was clear and you sped walked your way down that now empty hall. In mere moments you were at the elevator landing and jammed the button with repeated anxiety. The display for which floor the accursed machine was on had been broken for about as long as you could remember. You glared at the black screen. It would only been busted on your level. Another tick to the record of your inefficient boss. You were so lost in your glaring that you scarcely heard two more co-workers walk up until the elevator chimed its arrival.
“Tell me something!”
Standing right in front of the silver doors, you surged forward as soon as they parted. There was an elderly suited man in the back and you tucked yourself right against the panel to hit the ground floor.
“What’s up with these women wearing hot pants at the gym like it isn’t 45 degrees outside and then they get fucking mad when you look at them!?”
Unable to hide the disgust on your face, you grimaced into the corner.
“I don’t know man…”
These two weren’t colleagues you considered often, but they had rapidly shot down to the bottom of your care’s list.
“Seems inappropriate!”
You soured further as you heard the old man chirp out a response. Three was far more than a crowd it seemed.
“What about you? You gotta have some idea, right?”
You felt a tap on your shoulder.
They were not trying to pull you into this bullshit.
Seriously, this was not the day.
You prepared a barbed response and turned to sick it on them when the elevator signaled a premature stop. You lifted your head and watched as an immaculately done up woman in a skin tight dress clicked her way into the elevator on daggered heels. She not only towered over you, but everyone else in the square. The tension was so palpable you imagined pricking it with a needle. You wondered if the woman could sense it considering she didn’t have the inane context. Either way, you worshipped her as the goddess she was for even unknowingly averting a confrontation for you.
When the elevator hit the bottom floor, you were the first to scurry off. You heard your two idiot co-workers start a petty conversation with the woman and you marched straight to the many glass doors that granted exit to your high-rise. It wasn’t a breath of fresh air when it came to New York City, but it was certainly a reprieve. Still clutching your bag close, you strode down several sets of steps and onto a busy sidewalk. Hundreds of suits bustled and knocked shoulders with you as you settled into the traffic. It was a necessary evil that didn’t grate on your nerves any less. Parting the clouded thoughts as best you could, you looked forward into the ray of sunshine that sat on a lone sandwich shop. After several turns, that same storefront appeared tangible in the real world.
Your heart leapt at the sight. Somewhere in your bag you pictured your online pick-up order confirmation. You didn’t need it, but its receipt meant that no further fouls could come into play. Reaching for the handle, you watched through the glass as a gentleman did the same except his head was turned back to his companion within the shop. You reeled to dodge, but it was too late. The door flew open and clipped your shoulder as you failed to completely move away. You hissed into the sting and his sudden flurry of apologies took a bit of the edge off. You gave him a passing hands up gesture to pardon his transgression and he thankfully pivoted to hold the door for you. You heard a snippet of his companion berating him as the door returned to its stationary position.
Sighing, you fell into the shop’s embrace. The smell of freshly baked bread filled your nostrils and the thrum of patrons caressed your ears. You had eaten here a few times, with its proximity to your work, but this was the first time since they’d set up their online system. It meant you could skip the line and move right over to the pick-up counter. Straightening and finally letting your bag fall away from its defensive position, you headed to said post. There was no awaiting bag and you gave a little frown. This was exactly why you had your email at the ready. Reluctantly pulling up your bag, you rifled through it for your phone. Unlocking it, you watched in dismay as the email appeared only for the UI to refresh. Squashing a whine in your throat, you waited as the mobile data couldn’t seem to catch up with the page. Shifting a thumb to see if the shop had maybe set up free Wi-Fi along with an ordering system, you heard an authoritative voice call out.
“Online pick-up! Club, hold the ham, roasted tomato, add oil!”
All the petty joy in your body surged straight to your head. That was your exact order.
Now this you needed.
You closed the gap between you and the counter with a near hop as the employee set down the bag. Your hand reached out as if an angel were serving penance and you watched in slow motion as another hand did the same. Confusion twisted on your features as you both clutched the paper in tandem. Your dopamine spike skittered to a halt, leaving you at a flattened emotional midpoint.
Not now.
It had finally gone right!
“Huh?!” The pitch was far deeper and had way more gravel than you ever remembered your voice having before. You nearly growled as your shoulders bunched up and you went into full on defense mode over your lunch. You turned your irritation on your would be sandwich thief and found yourself caught at the sight. Towering over you was clearly a mutant. You blinked out of your glare and stared openly. Instead of looking at you, the man instead gazed straight through you. You saw a bit of brow sat neutral against a wash of purple. He seemed encompassed in layers as a hint of green skin peeked out from between the purple and a black mask. It made the angular glasses perched upon them all the more apparent. There was a faint tint to them that you couldn’t quite make out from this distance. From there you skirted the edges of his black ball cap and down to his black wool coat. It framed the tight black turtleneck that clung to every crevice of his seemingly chiseled torso.
You came back to yourself all at once and found that barely a second had passed.
“I’m pretty sure that’s mine.” Thankfully your mouth still knew justice and held none of the awe that had passed through your brain.
Something about your curt response seemed to catch his attention and you watched in real time as his focus seemed to adjust to your form. With the mask you couldn’t be sure, but he seemed prepared to respond.
“Online pick…!”
You watched as the man turned away from you and to the confused employee who had choked on his announcement.
“Weird! This is… the exact same order?”
Reluctantly, you finally dragged your gaze away to the staff member. “What?”
“Some kind of glitch in the new system?” The employee posited, pulling the first bag away from both of your still outstretched hands.
In your periphery you saw the mutant move and pull out his phone.
“The order numbers and names are different…” The employee struggled and juggled both sacks.
“Simply a coincidence.”
Both you and the employee jolted at the mutant’s voice.
“I’d like my lunch now if you’re done manhandling it.”
The employee nodded dumbly and before placing both bags on the counter. He then made a scared show of pushing one in each of your directions. You caught your bags at the same time and you turned to see the mutant still scrolling his device with what you supposed was purpose.
“Some coincidence, huh?” You remarked, clutching your lunch.
The mutant gave a curt nod and you heard the employee retreat.
You were about to do the same when he seemed to find what he was looking for. In a flash of movement, his device fell in a slack arm and he leaned forward. You had no time to move away as he entered your personal space. Your heart hitched as he reached out to your bag. Basal instinct told you to pull away, but curiosity kept you in place. You watched as a tridactyl hand passed the sack itself and moved to lift the receipt attached to it. From this distance you could finally see the color of his glasses; it was a barely there shading of blue in one and red in the other.
“You have my order.”
One of your brows descended while the other shot sky high. “So?”
You watched for the second time as his gaze seemed to struggle to focus on you like a malfunctioning camera lens.
“Just like the guy said: the orders are the same.”
You could only glean information from his eyes and they were set sternly to stoic. He bypassed responding and instead lifted his device. The screen was turned toward you and proudly displayed his own receipt.
So, that’s what had kept him.
“You had trouble with the internet too!”
In the first show of emotion you had seen, you watched one of his brows incrementally raise. A full centimeter seemed like quite the hurdle for him.
“I’m to assume you won’t give me my sandwich.”
He straightened and your heart sank the tiniest bit.
That was strange.
You knew nothing about this man other than he was apathetic and apparently a stickler for order numbers.
Still, he was the most interesting thing that had happened to you all day.
Hell, maybe even all year.
When was the last time you had gotten to interact with a someone in banal terms?
It didn’t have to be a long lunch to be fulfilling.
“How about…” You tilted your head to the side and did your best to peer into his eyes. “I give it back to you if you sit down and have lunch with me?”
His stare was completely flat.
“If… you have time that is?” You shoved the afterthought in quickly.
He rolled his shoulders and adjusted his sandwich into the crook of his arm. You watched as he then placed his device into his pocket and pinched one of his lapels. You continued to wait with ever growing curiosity as he then swiveled his neck to look out over the dining room. You followed his gaze for a moment trying to spy exactly what he was looking at. Whatever it was, he seemed to find it and his head crawled back to you before he gave a little sigh.
“You have terrible taste.” He said simply and made a slight movement with his neck for you to follow.
“I literally ordered the exact same meal as you.” You bounced in line with him as he led you both over to a table tucked into a windowed corner.
He waited for you to sit before he delicately took the one across from you. His posture was so perfect it was almost laughable as he set his order on the table. In contrast, you heaved yours down and struggled to take your bag off. When you’d finally slipped it to your side, you rose up to find him still holding his meal as if it were a valuable item in a criminal handoff.
“Not what you meant, got it.” You noted, grabbing your order in a similar manner to indulge him.
His head tipped down incrementally and you both made the switch. He seemed to examine the contents while you, in contrast, shoved your hand down the paper bag to retrieve your parchment wrapped sandwich. You wanted to gripe about how he had eyes on the meal from the employee until now, but he hadn’t spoken past insulting you.
Oh, yeah. You should probably be more upset about that.
Your stomach grumbled as you dismissed the thought to instead languish in his curious company. Instead of fully unwrapping your sandwich, you peeled back the wrapper to keep your hands clean before taking a big bite. As you chewed you watched as he made work of flawlessly folding his parchment until his own meal was fully exposed. He then procured napkins from his bag and set his shoulders to finally eat.
“At least you’re aware.”
The corner of your mouth quirked up at that. He certainly liked to take his time to respond.
“Why this sandwich?” You took another hearty bite and relished the way the tomatoes burst with flavor.
“A club could be considered a base standard for a sandwich shop.”
You slowed your bites as he reached both his hands up. It was only then that you realized he’d have to remove his mask to eat. It seemed like a delicious cherry on top of your silly little scheme. You watched curiously as you noted that he had no ears for the straps to attach to. Instead you took notice of the poignantly sewed on buttons to his ball cap that were keeping the elastic in place. His head came down as he removed the mask and his green snout came into view. He then tucked the mask into his coat as if it were a pocket book and brought his hands back to his sandwich.
“Enjoying the show?” He kept his eyes down on his meal and seemed to be calculating the best way to tackle it.
“Yes, actually.” You hummed, swallowing your bite. You watched with tepid joy as your stark response caused him to flick his gaze at your momentarily.
He hadn’t needed to adjust that time.
“Do you have a mutant kink?”
What a return lob.
“No, it’s just been awhile since I’ve been able to have a civil conversation with someone.”
He finally picked up his sandwich and though you could see his mouth now, its tight line read the same as his eyes, giving nothing away. He seemed to digest your words as he brought his purchase up. You felt your hands squeeze a little too hard as his lips parted. Maybe it was your imagination, but it seemed to open a little wider than necessary and you got a good luck at the pricks of his canines as he bit down into the relenting bread. A tomato falling into your lap brought you back to your senses.
You cursed and switched to palm your sandwich with one hand to retrieve the red offender. A napkin slid across the table in your periphery and you grumbled out a thank you as you took it. Wiping your slacks and frowning at the oil that had already seeped in there, you huffed.
“Very convincing.”
It was almost impressive how much sarcasm he could inject into his flat tone.
You snapped your gaze to him and scooted closer to the table to prevent another spill. “It’s not an obsession! I mean you must know…”
He didn’t bother to look up and instead inspected the crescent carved out of his meal.
You gave him a few more moments, but it seemed apparent he wasn’t going to answer so you continued on. “What you look like.”
“And what is that?” Dropping his sandwich back to the folded parchment, he peeled back the top bread to examine the ingredients.
Though his question had appeared devoid of emotion, your cheeks flushed at the thought. You didn’t mind saying it as you had long grown past that kind of fearful shyness, but it still struck you how he was able to conjure up those sort of nervous butterflies when he didn’t seem particularly interested in you in the slightest. If that aloof attitude was why, then maybe it had been far longer than you’d previously thought since you’d had a decent conversation. You could consider the ramifications of it later. For now, it was a nice reprieve to be able to indulge in the sensation of a crush, even if it felt like the meeting would only last through lunch.
“You’re attractive.” You hid the little flip your stomach made by taking another bite.
You heard a little hum and chanced peeking at him through your lashes. He wasn’t looking at you, but his attention had finally been split away from his sandwich as he considered your statement. You continued to eat until, after a certain amount of time, he joined you. You smiled to yourself through a bite of turkey. He’d deemed it another non-response, but something about that was almost endearing. If he were anyone else you probably would be labeling him rude, but there was something about his aura that you found intoxicating in a mysterious way. His looks certainly helped, but you tried to see past the superficial.
No harm in being the reacher if only for a bit of fun.
“Earlier you mentioned something about a standard?”
There was a slight hitch as he brought his sandwich up to his lips. “That’s correct.”
“Are you like a food reviewer?”
You could have sworn you heard another hum, but this time the concurrent sounds of the shop made it impossible to be sure. You waited nonetheless and prepared a few other questions just in case this one also didn’t take.
“I’m looking for a new lunch spot.”
“Oh?” You gave him a once over and watched as he dabbed his face with a napkin.
“I’d been going to one shop for years, but despite my best efforts it closed down.” He passed you another look and your heart clenched at the sight of his eye line.
“You would be a creature of comfort.” Maybe another tease would bring his gaze back to you.
Unfortunately, you weren’t so lucky.
“Presumptuous.” He said in a manner that seemed for his ears only.
“Am I wrong?” You tilted your head curiously.
He retracted ever so slightly and it brought your elbows to the table as you leaned in. He stood strong against the move before finally, instead of only a flitting glance, he looked straight at you. If you hadn’t already craned yourself to the table, you might have collapsed.
“It was meant as a negative. A note about how you venture to guess my habits based on so little data.”
This guy was something else. He suddenly reminded you of a computer. He was the embodiment of an analytic assault. If it wasn’t the way he picked apart his food and his talk creating a sandwich baseline, then it was how he seemed to be tallying up some sort of report on you.
Gosh, you just wanted to tease him.
“But am I wrong?”
If it were possible his level gaze became even more sardonic.
You couldn’t keep the widening smile off your cheeks.
He went back to his sandwich and you were starting to get a feel for when a subject had been dropped. Maybe a little data was just enough.
“I get it.” You dropped a new line in amity. “Everyone has a favorite place and it sucks when it closes.”
You didn’t get a sense that he was ignoring you this time, but rather had little to comment on the kindness you extended. It made you all the more curious.
“Why the club? Was it your favorite?”
One of his brows arched incrementally and the fact that you noticed surely meant you were just flat out staring at him. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to care or if he did, his face continued to betray nothing.
“No.” The rounded shape his lips made around the word lingered past when it left his vocal cords.
You wondered which of the two questions he had answered or if he had tidied both up in one go. You could almost curse yourself for not spreading them out.
“Almost every shop has a club sandwich.”
You perked up slightly, putting together what he meant. He had answered the questions in reverse order. You wondered what about them had confused his processors.
“Then why modify it?” Remembering your own sandwich preferences brought attention to the fact your lunch was being sorely neglected. It was still in hand, but you still couldn’t touch it as you found him giving his first emotion of the day: the slightest downturn of his lips.
Who knew a frown could do so much for the chemicals in your brain?
“It’s frustrating that something so basic doesn’t have a clear consensus.”
“Wha-?”
“It isn’t supposed to have ham on it and yet an infuriating amount of establishments default to the product. Plus that isn’t even mentioning construction which can be slapdash at best and I’ve even been to a shop that had the audacity to put an egg into the stack!”
You blinked wide as you realized it wasn’t just a frown, but something akin to anger. The way he bit down on the end of the sentence and then shifted in an almost imperceptible way to recompose himself made your heart rate spike. What a hang up! Your mind went into a flurry. You wanted to ask if he disliked eggs in general or just on a club. You didn’t even know his name, but you wanted to know all about his culinary preferences. Imagination running wild with the list, you imagined making his favorite breakfast after a night of-
Infatuation was a hell of a drug.
You squashed any further excitement with a tepid and hopefully, understanding smile. “And the tomato?”
The way his chin tipped up seemed to say something, but you weren’t sure what. He opted to fold his arms and you found yourself unconsciously leaning ever more forward as you awaited his response.
“The cooking process concentrates what little flavor industrially-grown tomatoes have.”
You nodded, this time genuinely knowing what he meant.
“And the oil to add fat?”
His tightened grip on his arms laxed as he moved from looking at you to a full on survey. Feeling very seen, you dropped your gaze and picked at what was left of your sandwich.
“Yes, it also enhances mouth feel and can combat dryness.”
The corner of your mouth quirked up. Though his own tone could use a little of that seasoning, you swore you caught the tiniest note of appreciation for the catch.
It was also entirely possible you just willed it to be that way.
“Salt Fat Acid Heat…”
There was that hum again. This time you were sure you heard it.
You brought your gaze up to find his squarely on your face.
“Quite the read.” He gave a single approving nod and you could feel cupid’s arrow shoot straight through your heart. If nothing else this lunch would serve as an emotional meal for at least a week.
You really needed a new job.
“I’ll take that as you changed your mind about my tastes.” You gave a satisfied smirk and moved with the intention of finishing your meal off.
“Absolutely not.”
His instant reply halted your hands mid journey.
“But you just…?” You trailed off weakly.
“Something can be said about your gastronomic choices, but that wasn’t what I was referring to.”
Did he mean earlier?
Was he talking about himself?
Your head tipped to one side curiously.
You watched him stare at you long enough to blink a single time before he returned to his sandwich. Remembering you had been trying to do the same, you followed suit. You were able to get through one more bite before another question chomped at the bit.
“How many shops have you evaluated so far?”
Under the guise of popping the final corner of your lunch into your mouth, you watched him through your lashes.
His cheeks paused in chewing before he swallowed.
“This will be the 12th one.”
You gave a snort as you stole one his napkins to wipe your hands. He responded by reaching into your forgotten bag and replenishing his supply.
“You’ll just keep going until you find a suitable replacement?”
He gave a single nod and you balled up your dirty parchment.
“How does this one rank? I’ve been here a few times before.”
He finished off his own sandwich and took to a careful process of folding his parchment further before depositing it into his bag.
“Mid, the turkey was nothing more than watery deli slices and the bread is particularly unremarkable.”
“Yeah, I can see that. The tomato was pretty good considering it’s out of season though.”
“Quite.” After thoroughly scrubbing his hands, he wiped any errant crumbs off the table and gathered up the trash into the bag as well. “You work nearby?”
You had been in the midst of following his table manners when you faltered and ripped your bag in the process of depositing a used napkin. Your lips parted and you almost wanted to ask him if you had heard him correctly. He had actually asked you a question.
“Yeah… How did you know?” You tried to salvage the bag as your mind ran rampant again.
Had he seen you before?
Were you really about to live out some kind of romantic comedy scenario?
“Why else would you choose the mediocre if not for proximity’s sake.”
Crushing your bag along with the ridiculous thoughts, you smiled at him a little too brightly. “You got me there.”
His chin tipped again, but this time it was down. You really wanted to map out all his little tendencies, but you’d need a notepad for that. You had the perfect one in your office, but that would mean heading out.
Your heart sank.
“My lunch break.”
The statement hung in the air as you left your trash abandoned in exchange for your bag. Within a few flurried motions you pulled out your phone and stared in anguish as it awakened with the time.
“I am so late…!” Your voice waned and you looked to the mutant with desperation.
He seemed immune to your plight and moved to stand. Though you had long resigned yourself to satisfaction of the little time you’d gotten with him, the closing window didn’t sting any less. Squinting weakly at your trash, you dropped your phone into your bag and heaved yourself up. Gathering your things, you couldn’t help the surprise that passed over your features as you found him standing beside his pushed in chair and the mask back on his face, waiting.
“Thanks.” You mumbled off and he brushed by it as he headed for the door.
You followed him and waited your turn as he dumped his bag at the receptacle.
You had so many questions once.
Where had they all gone?
You waited sullenly as he seemed to take an extra moment before he stepped aside and you hucked your garbage ball into the appropriate hole.
“And thank you for indulging me. Works been…” You trailed off with a grimace and a wave of your hand.
He reached for the door handle, but kept his even gaze on you.
“Let’s just say this long lunch is not going to help the matter!” You sighed and wondered if that angelic coworker could distract your boss with even more edits.
That would probably be asking too much.
“It’s just a shame I won’t be able to hear the rest of your reviews.” A bit of dry laughter found its way out of you.
Finding a grip on the door, he opened it and slipped out first.
You chased after him having a feeling he wouldn’t hold it.
“I’ll just be stuck eating the same old meh meal!” Twisting your bag into both hands, you prepared for the parting.
You found him staring down at you with that ever-present aloof nature.
You opened your mouth to say your goodbye when you saw his hand come up with a clean napkin.
You tensed and forced your awareness to your face in an attempt to feel if something had been left dried up there.
“I’m going about my search in an orderly block by block manner.”
Twisting your neck, he pulled your attention with his sudden speech.
“I’ll be in this vicinity for the next few days. Your options might not be so limited.”
Finding nothing in his eyes, you let your gaze trail down to his hand. Between green fingers you saw the telltale scrawl of numbers.
Your heart skipped such a beat you thought you might go into cardiac arrest.
“Though I’m going to the next shop tomorrow, so do find a way to appease your superior.”
You watched in horror as both your hands came up to take the slip as if it were some precious artifact.
You wondered if he found it funny.
Or endearing.
Or maybe he already regretted his decision entirely.
“Don’t worry. Sometimes I think he keeps me on just to bitch at me.” He let go of the napkin and it came fully into your possession.
Even though it acted as a record, you tried to commit the writing to memory.
Donatello
XXX-XXX-XXXX
Curt and to the point.
Just like him.
“Also, I don’t care for idle banter. Only message me when completely necessary.”
“Sure.” Pulling the napkin close, you looked up to find him already moving away. You jolted at his retreating form before planting your feet. “I’ll see you tomorrow!”
He surely heard your shout, but continued on unperturbed.