Between Two Points (Peregrine x catalyst)

[Peregrine]

Timothy Reince was starting to regret his decision to blend his own personal shopping with buying wine for his dinner meeting with Max Alderman. The Green Apron was the local chain grocery store, and while it would serve perfectly well in getting him the food he would be cooking up on a hotel stove tomorrow, it was becoming readily apparent that he should have just bitten the bullet, forgone breakfast for tomorrow morning, and taken the time to go to a proper alcohol shop for this purchase. Unfortunately, Tim was committed now, and he had no choice but to search his way through row after row of low quality wine, trying to find anything that would make even a semi-decent impression for the meeting.

Mr. Alderman was known to be a man of exacting standards, and was unsympathetic towards flaws of any kind. He would not care that Tim had been halfway across the country this morning, that his plane had ended up delayed six hours, or that he'd had no choice but to head to the hotel first, in order to shave off the nubs of his thick beard hair, which had already started to grow back despite the fact he had already shaved once this morning. His company might be slightly more sympathetic, considering that 24 hours ago Tim hadn't known he'd had this job, but they ultimately had one priority, and that was making sure that Mr. Alderman, and, more importantly, the company he represented, became their client.

That determination was part of the reason Tim had been sent. He had worked for this company for three years, and had gained a stellar reputation during that time. He didn't have a 100% success rate at closing deals, no one did. But if anyone at the company came close to that, it would be Tim. The company picked and chose his cases carefully, using him as a way to stack the deck in their favor when there was a particularly unlikely, or important, possibility of expanding. It had gotten to the point where his boss called him a miracle worker, and some people had begun to expect the impossible of him.

Tim was skilled at his job, but he was no miracle worker. He simply had a few extra tricks working in his favor that his colleagues didn't have. If there was one thing Tim had learned in all this time, it was that the art of sales wasn't in convincing people they wanted something they didn't need. It was in finding the thing you could offer that would fix a problem the person was having. Then, and only then, would they be fully convinced to buy in. The reason Tim was so skilled was because he was very, very good at understanding what people needed.

Almost unconsciously, Tim's hand reached up to rub the spot right in the middle of his chest, where, in his mind's eye, he could see a golden thread spiraling out from his body, before coiling together with other strands, each a unique color. These larger coils, in turn, twisted away, joining together with other coils. And, at the very center of all this, a glowing pile of threads gathered, the different threads merging together into a bright core.

Tim dropped his hand with an abrupt motion, pressing his lips together and pointedly turning his gaze back to the wine. The threads might be helpful in allowing him to gain an understanding of people, but they would provide absolutely no aid when it came to picking an adequate wine.

As Tim worked his way up and down the racks, quietly growing more and more desperate as he realized he wasn't going to be able to find anything suitable, his gaze suddenly snapped to the side. It was an unconscious motion, a reaction as his mind's eye suddenly caught sight of a familiar thread, a color he hadn't forgotten even though it had been almost fifteen years since he'd last seen it.

Giving up on his quest to find wine and hoping there'd be some way to make it up when he met with Alderman, Tim walked out of the aisle with brisk steps, before turning down a different aisle. His gaze immediately locked on a young woman.

"Angela?"

 

[catalyst]

Angela had been staring at the selections of bread for... how long now? It must've been at least five minutes. While she could have easily blamed that the variety was just too much to handle at the moment, there was a mental block that she couldn't quite see past. She was able to see the bread, of course, and whatever else the aisle offered, but information wasn't quite registering with her and the young woman knew she was just staring.

Maybe it wasn't her day. Earlier she had stubbed her toe on the corner of her couch, but she had dubbed that as her usual clumsiness. However, throughout the day, she kept finding herself zoning out, even spilling her tea once, and stumbling more than usual. The only good thing was that it was her day off, so she didn't have to worry about making a mistake with any client or make them feel like she wasn't focused on them.

Letting out a soft sigh, she bent down to grab a random, circular bread loaf. Inside her shopping basket were already some stuff: there were vegetables, a couple of different cooking oils, and a few other items that clearly indicated she was buying things for a recipe. Everything was for a vegan "clam" chowder, something she was a little afraid to but certainly willing to try. Plus, if it was good enough, she could serve it at the next meeting and fill empty stomachs.

It was a small group, there was no doubt about it, but everyone was beyond interested and willing to learn about the threads that a friend so long ago had shown and taught her. And slowly, she knew, the group was growing. There were others interested, but they just didn't have the chance yet to join in on the meetings, or were afraid, or whatever other reasons were out there.

"Angela?" A recognizable but not quite completely familiar voice broke her thought.

When the Chinese woman straightened, she hit the back of her head on the dangling items found every so often on shelves. It didn't hurt, but it did embarrass her a little bit as she smoothed the back of her hair in case it was messed up. She met eyes with the owner of the voice, and she blinked once.

Perhaps she could blame her mental block for not picking up on that bright golden thread. Her own thread, the color of dark pine, nearly vibrated as it began closing the distance between the golden one. A lost connection now reconnected.

She blinked again, and then smiled. "Tim!" She put the loaf inside the basket and then moved to hug him. "Oh, my...!" She shook her head, a little lost for words before finally she managed, "Long time no see!"

 

[Peregrine]

The hug was lingering and sweet, a reminder that the deep bond they had once shared wasn't entirely lost, even after all these years. They released the hug after another couple moments, but the warm feeling didn't fade from Tim's heart, where he could feel the familiar, happy wiggling of Angela's thread, which had coiled tightly around his own. It was similar to the connection that formed between the other threads far out in the distance, as they began to draw closer to the core. The difference was that their threads began to tangle only moments after they pulled away from their bodies. His own thread was humming contentedly, and Angela would be able to feel these gentle vibrations in that same spot in the center of her chest, long before the distance would have otherwise swallowed it up.

Tim realized now exactly how silly his hesitance of a few moments before had been. There had been no need for him to greet Anglea with a question in his voice. It was a relief in some respects, and obvious in others. Time might have changed the both of them, Angela had certainly matured from a lanky young girl into a graceful young woman, but even the long separation couldn't change the fact that they understood each other. The threads had granted them that long ago, and it wasn't something time or distance could remove.

"A long time indeed," Tim agreed, a smile playing across his lips at Angela's breathless behavior. His thread momentarily tightened its grip on Angela's own, a teasing nudge. "I'm glad you've been well."

 

[catalyst]

Timothy was just as happy to see Angela as she was to see him. If the returned hug wasn't evidence enough, the way his thread thrummed was and it only made her happier. There was nothing to make her think that their reunion would be otherwise unpleasant, but after not seeing someone for so long... well, many things could have changed. They were, after all, just kids when their paths separated. They'd barely, if at all, had started the puberty process. Nothing could have helped that Timothy had to move, but Angela always did have a feeling that their paths would cross again. It had been what helped subside the initial feelings of missing him, as well as the fond nostalgia years later.

She giggled warmly up at him. "Ah, yeah, well... I thought I didn't have any luck today. I suppose it was all saved up for this moment." The young woman took the chance to finally get a good look at him. Yes, he had grown so much, but he had the same eyes, the same smile... and his thread was as bright and beautiful as ever.

When they were kids, she'd been a little jealous of the golden color, but over time that faded as she realized how silly it was, and she grew to love and accept the deep green of her own.

"What are you doing here, anyway?" she asked as she shifted her grocery basket lower into her hand. A grocery store, of all places! It seemed like markets were always an opportunity - or a risk, depending on how one looked at it - to run into people. It was almost like people needed to eat or something...

 

[Peregrine]

"I was sent here for a business meeting," Tim replied, suddenly remembering the bottle of wine. He cast a sideways glance at one of the shelves, almost as though he could look right through it and see the disappointing wine supply. Half a second later, his words seemed to catch up with him. "Well, not here as in the grocery store. Here as in the town. I was hoping to pick up a bottle of wine for the meeting while I did my own shopping, but the supply was unexpectedly... lackluster in its quality."

Tim scratched the side of his head before shrugging. As he'd decided before, there was very little he had time to do about it now. He had already spent what little time he had to gather his own food looking through the wine, and he was going to have to leave soon, neither objective accomplished. He wished he'd just decided to go to the wine store.

Then again, if he had done that, he wouldn't have run into Angela, and that was certainly a welcome meeting.

"What about you? I certainly wasn't expecting you to be in the area."

 

[catalyst]

"Ah." The word was followed by a small smile. Look at Timothy, doing big things with his life. Well, that was only an assumption but Angela thought it was a pretty safe one. Throughout the years, the occasional thought of how her childhood friend was doing would pop up in her mind. She never assumed that he was doing bad and had always hoped for the best. Because even though she never really knew how his life was playing out, she had always had a feeling that he was just fine.

As he clarified his answer, Angela's smile widened and she moved stray, black hairs from her face. "It's the Green Apron, not a wine store," she teased. "Its specialty is Sutter Home and Yellow Tail." She looked at his hands and realized he didn't have any groceries, and that would have led her to look back up at him with a brow raised, but his question caught her attention more. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

"Ah..." she shrugged casually. "I left for a while - went to college, y'know. Ended up back here. But hey! I could say the same thing about you!" She smiled again.

"Anyway. I'm guessing your meeting is soon?" While she may had to relearn Tim's telling gestures and facial expressions all over again - if he was even staying that long - he looked too rushed for his meeting not to be soon, especially considering he had no groceries. "I hope they feed you. If you're here for business, that means you're staying in some hotel, yeah? If you otherwise don't want to pay for room service, I would be happy to have you over for dinner! At least before you leave the city again." She clasped her hands in front of her excitedly. "Please? It would be so great to catch up!"

 

[Peregrine]

The slight squeezing of Tim's lips in response to Anglea's comment about his meeting being soon was likely all the response she would need to tell that he was on the edge of running late. Tim was not an inherently punctual person, but the few years he had spent working in something that bordered on the edge of customer service had drummed the niceties of being on time firmly into his head. This was even more true for a very particular man like Mr. Alderman.

All the same, Angela's eagerness caused his heart to unconsciously relax, and his smile in response to her words was honest and happy. "I can't do dinner tonight," he replied. "The meeting is likely going to run late, and the time zones are already messing with me. But, since I didn't have a chance to go shopping, I'd love to do lunch tomorrow."

 

[catalyst]

Angela was disappointed, but only mildly so. She honestly would have been surprised if Timothy accepted the dinner invitation for tonight; she would hope that the business meeting would go well. And wasn't it typically a good sign if meetings ran late? At least for Angela, they usually meant productivity, a person impressing another person, or figuring out and executing a solution to a complex problem. All positive things.

"Lunch would work perfectly." She stared cheerfully up at the taller human, and then it dawned on her that neither had each other's contact information. "Should we exchange emails? Phone numbers?" She wasn't sure what would work best for him. Personally, the phone always worked better for her, but either option was fine. She pulled out her phone from her purse, ready to do whatever Timothy chose.

 

[Peregrine]

"Phone numbers works great," Tim agreed, smiling slightly as he fished his smartphone out from his pocket. The case was almost perfectly dark, except for a bright gold streak that ran down the center. As he quickly input his password, Tim idly realized that Angela would be the only person he'd met since he'd got this case who would recognize that color was the exact shame shade as his thread.

He and Angela swapped phones then, and Tim quickly typed in his own number. When they swapped back, Tim smiled once more. "I'll send you a text when I'm out of the meeting. It shouldn't be too absurdly late. We can set a time and place to catch up then."

And, with a final glance at his phone to confirm the time, Tim was off, heading back down the aisle at a brisk trot before rounding the corner and heading for the exit. However, he did slow long enough to glance down at his phone as he drew near the entrance and type out a quick message:

[bg=#404040]It was great to see you again. [/bg]

---

Tim got out of his meeting with Max Alderman shortly after 10:30 that night, and by the time he made it back to his hotel it was much closer to eleven. Despite the lack of wine, the meeting had actually gone quite well. A few carefully placed words on Tim's part had encouraged Mr. Alderman (who had quickly started to insist Tim call him 'Max' after a few shots) to pull out his own personal brandy reserve. Before both men had gotten too deep in their cups, Tim had been able to extract a signed document from the man. Come the morning, once he got over the pounding headache that would likely greet him, Mr. Alderman might regret his decision to sign on with Tim, but he did not consider his methods underhanded in the least. He was confident that Mr. Alderman would quickly find the benefits in the new arrangement. Ultimately, the contract would have gone to someone. It was only a matter of who got it.

More than a bit drunk and feeling very self-satisfied, Tim almost fell over on the bed immediately before he suddenly remembered that he'd promised to text Angela when he got home so they could figure out where they would be meeting tomorrow for lunch. He nearly fell asleep before Angela responded, due more to his own tiredness than the length of time it took her to respond. However, well before Tim lost the battle for consciousness they had agreed to meet tomorrow at noon at an old cafe they had both visited often when they were kids.

Stone Soup was a small cafe and restaurant tucked back into a small building on an out-of-the-way street. When Tim had gone there as a child it had rarely ever been crowded, one of the better kept secrets of his former hometown. However, somewhere along the way it had apparently gained a well-deserved fame, as there was now a short line waiting outside the front door.

Owned by Mr. and Mrs. Temerie, their home-crafted recipes were exotic and sometimes a little bit unexpected, but no one could deny that they were incredibly tasty. Tim had come to adore their avocado and chicken liver sandwich, despite the fact that the name had made him slightly queasy when he first heard it as a young boy.

Luckily, many of the people lined up had ordered ahead, and took their food to-go. It didn't take long for Tim to work his way up through the line and claim a table. He and Angela both would have to head up to the counter to order, but for now Tim was perfectly content to sit still and watch the line of people slowly percolate through the building.