Who: Ford Harper and Quen Wagtail What: Random meeting and mistaken identity When: Monday, May 13, 2019 Where: Grocery store, Snowcap Warnings: None
Ford stood in front of the tiny selection of organic snacks, frowning and debating just how long he wanted to spend right now reading packages. He'd never actually shopped somewhere other than his home grocery store, and it hadn't occurred to him that there would be stores where he couldn't find his normal products. The selection of fresh produce and meats hadn't been a problem, but he did supplement with a few processed products for ease—particularly on days where he wasn't feeling as well—and the fact that they didn't currently appear to be available was making him a bit grumpy.
It didn't help that it had taken him a couple of days to even find a place that would allow him to cook for himself. It was the only way he'd been able to prevent his mom from following him to Snowcap, which was the last thing he wanted right now.
Sighing, Ford grabbed one of the bars and started to peruse the list, tossing it back almost immediately with an annoyed grumble and checking out the next choice.
He wasn’t always the person who opted for the organic snacks - years of undergrad and then working under deadlines when he was at the advertising agencies had made Quen more along the lines of ‘will it kill me now or can I eat a salad later to counteract it?’ But years with Thorne and his dietary needs had made Quen a fan of certain brands. And it helped him feel a bit better when he had to live off of Chex Mix and Mountain Dew for a deadline.
Turning the corner to grab a few things in the store, he stopped dead in his tracks. Thorne. Of course he would have to be here right now. Since when did Thorne grocery shop willingly? His eyes wandered down to the basket and when he spied things that were actually good for the other man - Quen had to admit he was impressed. Somewhat.
He had always been the one to read the labels more than his former partner. Maybe he could help and save the boxes from being mangled by a very aggravated Proudfoot.
“Good choices so far - but can I help you find something?” There. Nice. Impersonal-ish. He could do this.
Ford glanced over at the sound of a voice and had to make an effort to suppress his scowl. No need to project his frustration on the unfortunate townspeople of Snowcap, particularly when it wasn't their fault that they were too small for a decent grocery store. "Unfortunately, I think the 'finding' part is going to be impossible. More like trying to decide on something that will do." He tossed another bar back into its box. "Any favorites? I need high protein, decent spread of general nutrients, low sugar, higher healthy fats, preferably doesn't taste like shit."
Shaking his head, Quen chuckled, “Not wanting it to taste like shit? See, that part might be pushing it a bit far.” He turned and scanned the shelves, trying to find the ones he had always picked up in the past - he had seen them there before. He grabbed a few that had worked for the other man in the past and held them out.
“I can’t swear on the taste factor - I am a bit more generous on that than most people. But it’s not wet cardboard or sawdust? The one with the blueberries is a personal favorite.” He raised a brow, “Or - you could try making them. Isn’t there a pinterest recipe out there from someone that can light the way to tasty, healthy, things?”
Ford laughed, too, at that. "Fair point. I have been told before that I have unrealistic expectations."
He accepted the suggested bars and skimmed through the nutritional content as he spoke. "I'm not quite that desperate for snack bars. Not having to cook them is sort of the whole point. If I'm going to bother with anything complicated, it's gonna be a steak and some sort of fancy veggie thing...though lord knows I mostly just would rather throw something into the oven with a little seasoning and forget about it." He tossed the bars into his basket. "Thanks. Those will do for starters. I guess I can always come back if I want something different."
Peering into his basket, Quen was surprised to not see a few of Thorne’s staples in the basket. Without really thinking about it - he leaned over and grabbed a box of protein enriched drinks, “These are really similar to the really pricey national brand.” He held up his hand, “Scout’s honor. And you don’t even really need to add anything.”
He paused, “Okay, so I sometimes thin it out with some vanilla almond milk - but I add that to far too much these days. Just a suggestion in case you want a break from the bars for a little bit of a snack or something.”
He added a few of the bottles to his own basket and grabbed a few bars, and then some of the ‘Organic Veggie Straws’ that he could sometimes convince himself he liked as much as chips.
Ford had expected the guy to disappear now that his impromptu job was done, so he was a little dumbfounded to still be chatting with him. It was a little weird, if he was being honest with himself...but that same honesty also required him to recognize that he wasn't as good with people-people as he was with online-people, and that his mom's admonition to attempt more socialization was probably right. She usually was. Was this how people did it? Making friends in the grocery store?
"Okay, yeah, thanks," he said as he added the protein drinks to his basket. His arm strained under the weight of it, but he really didn't want to look like the weakling he was in public. "So, um, there wouldn't happen to be a place around here to get decent coffee, would there? Decaf, but something more than just the plain stuff they had at...." He snapped his fingers, trying to think of the name. "The Crimson Kestrel? I think that's right."
“Well, I would love to tell you that we have a Starbucks or something similar. The days when I could just run out and get a soy latte...with extra espresso…” Quen looked fondly off into the distance, “Deliah’s can do basic coffee - if you catch Cao out front and not in the back she can make a decent enough mocha. But I have had to resort to making some of the things at home. Because I miss coffee like that isn’t just coffee with cream and sugar.”
He had no idea what had gotten into Thorne - he knew all of this stuff. But maybe it was side effects from his previous medical stuff. Or he had just been into a project too much or working too many hours. Or he was just being spacey because he hadn’t had to worry about keeping that information in his brain for awhile.
"Delilah's? That's the diner, right?" Ford had been there last night just after his portkey had arrived, but he'd been so tired that he'd barely managed to stay on his feet, much less retain the names. Some days were better brain days than others, unfortunately. Or better body days, for that matter. He gave in and set his basket on the ground at his feet, absently rubbing the spot where it had dug into his arm. "Please tell me they at least have an espresso machine and aren't trying to do it with strong coffee." He shuddered.
Now, he was starting to worry. But Quen had to remind himself - that he was just a friend. He shouldn’t be worrying. Thorne was a big boy who could take care of himself. Even if this was all starting to concern him. He put a ‘thoughtful’ look on his face to make it seem like he was trying to recall and made a mental note to reach out to a Proudfoot at some point and have them check on Thorne.
If something was wrong with this idiot and he wasn’t doing anything about it - Quen was going to take some of the sporks and throw them at his head.
“They do. And most of the staff can use it. So you know - perks. Just don’t as Ben if he’s helping out behind the counter.”
"Got it. No Ben." At least that was an easy enough name to remember. Probably. "Though, if all I'm getting is a shot of espresso or a passable mocha, maybe I need to just resign myself to weekend treats. The west coast is supposed to be some sort of coffee central, right? I've never been close enough for convenient travel there, so that can be my excuse. Not that I'm going through withdrawal without my Starbucks." He laughed, pleased to have found some common ground with this guy. Maybe this whole making friends thing wasn't as hard as he'd thought it might be.
“This is also true.” Quen shook his head a bit and then ran his fingers through his hair, he would send Thorne some ideas of places he thought he would like. And some Pinterest recipes. If he was getting to the point where he would shop for the things on his own - then maybe he would change his mind about making some of them.
Then he remembered Thorne baking and decided to stick with the ‘no bake’ recipes.
“I live in hope that a barista will move here to find themselves and we will get a coffee place here. Cao does try to get beans from regional roasting companies - keep things as locally sourced as possible. But that will only go so far at times.”
"I fully support this hope. Start up the petition or cruising for investors or whatever, and I'm in. Well, for however long I'm around, anyway." He shrugged and took a deep breath before reaching for his basket once again. "Well, thanks again for the recommendations. I promise I won't blame you too much if I hate the bars. You are working with limited resources here." He eyed the tiny selection on the shelf.
“If there is a brand you like - you can always leave the name with staff. They can be pretty accommodating.” Quen said with a small grin and then concern came back in again. It almost sounded like Thorne was thinking of leaving. Which would be - it would be crappy. But he wasn’t entirely surprised. But he was still worried about the other guy.
“Hey, if you get bored of bars and want to meet up for real food at some point let me know.” He pulled out his wallet, “I finally got new business cards so I don’t have to scratch out the old information anymore. It may be slow - but mail delivery still works! Shoot me an email or text or something if you are free. It would be nice to not eat at my desk all the time.”
Ford accepted the business card with a smile and tucked it into his back pocket. It was a relief to know he'd have something positive to offer when his mom called later, insisting to know every detail of his trip so far. "Thanks, man. I might take you up on that. See you around?"
Nodding Quen saluted him with another bottle of the protein drink and headed back into ‘normal food’ land, “Sounds good. See you later for sure.”