solo (soloing) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2019-04-06 18:31:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, !partner thread, napoleon solo, william laurence |
WHO: Napoleon Solo & William Laurence
WHERE: Coffee Shop
WHEN: Early March
WHAT: Solo and Laurence meet at a coffee shop.
WARNINGS: None
STATUS: Complete.
Without a doubt, the coffee shop craze was one that Napoleon could’ve lived without. He wasn’t partial to the Starbucks of the world, didn’t even really mind the odd tea house, but this whole name thing had worn thin very early on.
He’d heard every single ‘Solo’ joke that there was, and he’d gotten more than a few numbers scribbled on his drink only to find that his drink was not what he’d ordered at all. He felt a pang of sympathy for anyone who couldn’t focus enough to take and order, he did. But he just wanted his coffee, without the innuendos or proposals, as if it was too much to ask.
So, invariably, he’d began giving his actual name to the shop people, if only to stop the ‘nerds’ and their Star Wars jokes that he was very much done with, and partially to see how they struggled with his name. The odd time or two, he got someone with a modicum of professionalism and sense, who simply called his name and handed over his correctly made drink.
And those were the days he truly appreciated. Like today.
“Tall white for Napoleon,” He didn’t even need to wait that long. Excellent.
---
Laurence had rather enjoyed adding a stop at the coffee shop to his daily routine. It was a time to take a moment to himself, enjoy some dark roasted coffee, and read the newspaper.
That was what he was doing this particular morning, the paper folded in front of him so that he could hold it upright, a mug of coffee in his hand, only peripherally paying attention to what was happening around him. But, well, he couldn’t help but hear it when the barista called out the name that was on everyone’s lips in his dreams: Napoleon.
Quickly, he lowered his paper and his coffee mug, scanning the coffee shop. He had never seen Bonaparte in his dreams, but at this moment in history it was nearly impossible to not know what Napoleon looked like. The man getting his coffee… well, it didn’t appear to be him. He wondered, vaguely, as he scrutinized the man, how accurate the images of Napoleon that were widespread these days were.
---
With a charming grin on his face, thanking the young lady at the counter, Napoleon took his coffee and aimed to catch a seat -which was just slid into by a rather frazzled looking woman who was wearing almost as much animal hair as whatever animal she had at home. Definitely not sitting too close to that. Unfortunately, although likely not for business, the rest of the place seemed rather crowded, he was loathe to stand around like some overgrown support beam, so finding a rather engrossed fellow to join didn’t seem out of the realm of possibility.
“Don’t suppose you mind a little company?” He was aware the man was reading, which suited him just fine, it wasn’t like he came to random coffee shops to just engage people in conversation -good lord no, the number of hipsters he’d have to converse with might’ve melted his brain by then if that were the case.
But the possibility of a little companionable silence wasn’t off the cards.
---
Laurence was a little startled when the man approached him, though other than a slight widening of his eyes, he did not give it away.
“Not in the least,” Laurence said, gathering the rest of the newspaper from the table and folding it so that he could stash it in his leather briefcase. The newspaper safely stowed away, he offered a hand to the man, Napoleon. “I’m William Laurence.”
---
Placing his cup down, Napoleon extended his hand in greeting to meet William’s for a shake, unbuttoning his jacket as he sat, “Napoleon Solo.” In California, his name wasn’t something to worry too greatly about -although it did make him somewhat glad he’d never bothered to take his father’s name as his mother asked. Besides, he was more sure now than ever that it would’ve been more trouble than his mother realised.
“Don’t need to do that on my account,” he indicated to the newspaper, “I just have terrible allergies and would hate to be sneezing the remainder of the day.” And that wasn’t too far from the truth either. But he was more worried about second hand animal hair than his less severe than he’d let on allergies.
---
Laurence felt some of the tension leave his shoulders at that. While there was a very slight passing resemblance with the Napoleon from history in the short, dark hair, Laurence had yet to meet anyone from the dreams who did not share their name with their dream counterpart, which had been proven with his correspondence with Freya, who dreamed of being the Norse goddess, on the Network. “It’s a pleasure, Mr. Solo,” Laurence said.
“Oh, it’s no trouble. I was nearly finished with it anyway,” Laurence said. That wasn’t necessarily true, but it would make for dreadfully poor manners if he continued reading while there was another sat at his table. “I don’t believe I’ve seen you in this coffee shop before. Do you come here often?”
---
Manners were, in Napoleon’s experience, a somewhat lost art in certain places. And that was a crying shame, but it did mean he tended not to hold people to any kind of regard over them.
“Oh, no, this would be a first for me.” But he didn’t mind a little conversation to pass the time, if nothing was pressing on William or Napoleon wasn’t interrupting some much needed quiet time. “Still rather new to the area, working my way through familiarising myself with the best spots.” And that, of course, meant finding a favoured place for coffee.
“I take it you’re a regular?”
---
“You could say that,” Laurence said, “though I hardly make this a daily habit. I do try to stop in when I have some extra time though. It can be nice to just enjoy the crowd even if I don’t have company.” It was, of course, better when he did have company, though he wouldn’t say as much in case of embarrassing Napoleon. “How long have you been here?”
---
There was something to be said for having a regular place, even if it wasn’t an every day place. And Napoleon was sure he’d miss certain aspects of that in New York until he found a little niche for himself here.
“Well, it’s not every day you can get the luxury of taking some time to just unwind.” And on those rare occasions when it was possible, somewhere comfortable was the best.
“A month or so,” he’d been in California just under two months, and while he was still getting used to Orange County, he was certainly enjoying the change from New York. “This sun and sand thing is starting to grow on me.” Although he did miss the city. “Are you a local?”
---
“Oh no, not in the least,” Laurence answered. “Although I moved here about two years ago, and it is starting to feel like home.” Almost more homelike than England had, though he felt unfaithful for thinking the thought. “The beaches can be lovely out here though.” So long as one could find a quiet stretch of beach that wasn’t crowded with American tourists. “And the weather is far more amiable than it was back in England.”
---
Places did grow on people, although Napoleon couldn’t see himself thinking of anywhere but New York as home, he was fairly sure that Orange County was a good place to settle for a while.
It certainly beat out the tall buildings and the smog of the city, Napoleon could enjoy the sunlight for a good while for sure. “Well, there is that whole saying, about homes and hearts.” It probably rang true for a lot of people.
“I can see this weather being far more appealing than England, yes.” He’d never been though, not even on business, but the general consensus seemed to be it was chilly and a bit dull.
---
A smile tugged at Laurence’s lips at the phrase. His heart belonged to Mary, which may have been one of the reasons that he felt that way. It was not as if he had ever pictured himself happily living in America in the past. While there had been more exceptions than he had expected, he still generally thought of Americans as being more uncouth and rude than the people back at home.
“And where is it you hale from? Have you been enjoying it here?” He wondered, quietly, if Napoleon had been subjected to the Dreams and the general strangeness of the county as well, though he could never ask such a question.
---
“New York, so, this is a coast defection right here.” Not that he was against the West coast, he did have an affinity for the East coast and the feel of living there, California was far more laid back, and it was taking a lot to not live his busy, constant moving, aggressive New York lifestyle.
“There’s not too drastic a change, aside from some weather and a change of pace.” Both things that were easily adapted to, “But I’m fairly enjoying my time here, it’s interesting.” Which, really, was a nice way of calling it weird -so many people talking about dreams.
---
“It certainly is that,” Laurence said, smiling a little. Interesting might have been understating it a little, but as far as Laurence was concerned, things were better left understated than overstated. “It’s not what I had expected when I’d first moved to America, but it does grow on you. Even with the… oddness of the place.” Perhaps it was the fact that the county kept him on his feet that so endeared it to Laurence.
---
The oddness of the place seemed to be putting it lightly, given all that Napoleon had heard but not really experienced and all the strange goings on.
But there was a subtle charm about the place, enough that he supposed it didn’t run people away terribly quick. “I’m sure it’ll be quite an interesting time, however long either of us stay.”
Hopefully it would be the good kind of interesting.