Chapter Text
Derek Morgan had his duffle slung over one of his shoulders. The hot sun beat down onto his skin, and caused beads of sweat to roll down his face, they paused momentarily as they attempted to weave their way through his untamed facial hair. The man's clothes were worn thin, too much exertion and they'd rip right in two. He walked with trembling legs, all the strength he used to have in them had seemed to vanish. He was hungry, and tired.
So when he saw a diner, no matter how crappy and slowly falling apart it seemed, he let out a breath of pure relief. He hadn’t eaten in awhile, and he felt the effects in the worst of ways. The heat had begun to get to him, too, and being out in the hot sun with no water made it a million times worse. He was dizzy, had a headache, and he was practically seeing stars.
He only had chump change in his pocket, and his wallet contained enough money to get him a few nights in a crap motel, nothing more. He never carried around more than he needed, no matter how much of a comfort it would bring him. He’d given up comfort a long time ago.
~.~.~.
The diner was a wreck. The color scheme was awful. Weird mustard colored wall paper peeling off the walls, a jukebox that looked like it no longer worked sat in a corner about to collect dust, and all the workers looked just about miserable. Most were old, the woman who greeted him had her hair long since go gray, and her eyes were old and weary, yet she still mustered up a smile to greet him with, so he pleasantly returned it.
“Just one, sweetie?” She asked him, she sounded almost surprised. Derek was surprised himself that she did, given his appearance. He didn’t exactly look like a women magnet, not like he normally did, anyway. He had been in need of a shower.
“‘Fraid so, sweetheart,” he replied. She raised her eyebrows at him, surprised by the endearment. “Not enough beautiful women like you to go around,” he sighed sadly, and then flashed her one of his big grins. The woman let out a small laugh, and fluffed her hair.
“Well, you’re one of those ones, aren’t you?” She inquired, one hand then rest on her hip. “Honey, I had enough rides with guys like you back in the day. Let me tell you, one more time and I’d throw my back out.”
He chuckled, it felt good to have an almost friendly conversation with someone. The people on the bus ride he’d taken weren’t exactly kindly. “You know what they say about getting right back on the horse, darling.”
“Honey, you aint no horse, you’re more like a stallion,” She said, and Derek let out a louder laugh that time, head thrown back. “It’d take a lot of yoga for me to get stretched out enough for that kind of ride again.”
“Well, no day like the present,” he suggested with a wink. She let out a little laugh and shook her head at him.
“You get any sweeter with me, and I’ll have to find myself a new set of teeth,” she told him, and he laughed again. “Come on, let’s get you a table and free piece of pie.”
“Free piece of pie?!” One of the guys behind the counter asked in shock. He had beads of sweat that covered his body, and Derek suddenly hadn’t felt so bad about his own appearance anymore. “Delilah, sweet talkin’ is all it takes to get on your good side?”
“Sweetheart, you aren’t a stallion. Hell, you aren’t even a pony ride,” the woman, Delilah, shot back at him, and the man held a hand to his chest in mock insult. Delilah shook her head and turned back to Derek. “Server will be with you in a moment, doll. Eat up, you’re going to get too thin.”
“‘Course, don’t want you breaking me later,” he continued to flirt. It eased his anxieties, eased his feelings entirely on the situation he was in. Delilah merely shook her head and let out a small laugh as she walked back to the front of the diner.
Derek picked up the menu. He hoped Delilah was right about his free apple pie, it sounded better than sex at the time.
After a moment of glancing at his menu, he felt a presence at his side. His duffle was at his feet, and when he looked up he saw the boy, who must have been his server, staring at it with interest. Derek raised a brow at him, and waited for the boy to realize he’d been noticed.
The kid finally looked up at him, and met his eyes. He flushed slightly when his gaze was met. “Hi!” He greeted suddenly, not the chipper voice of the servers Derek was used to. Of course, this kid wasn’t the typical server you got at any place he’d been at. He was also certainly one Derek hadn’t expected to see in a diner like that. He was much younger than the rest of the staff, with long hair that must have been killing him in the heat, lithe lengthy fingers that grasped a pad and pen, thin frame, and pale skin. But the thing that caught Derek’s attention the most? How undeniably pretty the boy was. “Are you ready for your order?”
“Heard something about some free apple pie,” Derek told him, and the kid smiled. Derek glanced at his name tag “Spencer” it read. Huh. He liked it. “How bad of an idea would coffee be for me right now?”
Spencer shrugged his shoulders. “Studies show that drinking caffeinated drinks in moderation doesn’t actually cause dehydration...but I’d get some water.”
“How about both?” Derek asked, although he knew deep down it was a terrible idea. He should stick to one drink, and one drink only. He didn’t know if he could charm Delilah into free beverages, as well.
“Alright,” the kid agreed easily enough, he started to write down the order in the pad. “One free apple pie, that I can’t believe you got, one coffee, and one water,” Spencer read the order out loud.
“Give him the water free!” Delilah called from her post, and both Derek and Spencer whipped their heads to look at her, Spencer in surprise. “He can get that from the tap. The man needs a drink or he’ll die.”
“Gotta keep me running steady, eh, Delilah?” Derek called back to her, and the woman just laughed.
“Don’t think I’ve ever seen her smile so much,” Spencer said quietly in bewilderment. He gave Derek a small smile. “So the water is on the house.”
“Apparently so,” Derek confirmed with a grin. “So I guess just the coffee I’ll be paying for.”
“Nothing else?” Spencer inquired. Derek cocked his head to the side in question. “I mean, when is the next time you’ll be stopping for food?”
Derek sighed, and ran a hand through his still persperating scalp. His tiredness and lack of interest in life seemed to smack him right in the face again. “Don’t know. Was hoping to settle around here for a few nights,” he answered. “Know any bad motels, kid?”
“Bad motels?” Spencer asked in confusion.
“A bad motel is a cheap motel,” Derek replied. “I need a cheap one.”
“Well, as for bad motels, there are plenty, as far as cheap ones, there’s one right down the street, just keep going straight and you should get there in around fifteen minutes,” Spencer advised him. He looked at Derek, almost in concern. “Will you be staying for long?”
“Afraid I don’t really know,” Derek answered honestly. “Depends if I can get work around here.”
Spencer nodded, and then looked back down at the pad. “I’ll go put in your order,” he said softly.
Derek smiled at him. “Thanks.” He reached up to flick at the name tag. “Spencer.”
“No problem,” Spencer said, and waltzed off back into the kitchen area. Derek shook his head, what as the kid doing working there? Was the local McDonalds not hiring?
~.~.~.~.~.
Derek was just about halfway done with his coffee when a plate that held a large burger, all the fixings, and fries was set down in front of him. His eyes widened and he looked up at Spencer, who fiddled with his fingers awkwardly. “Not that I’m complaining, kid, but this isn’t what I ordered.”
“No,” Spencer agreed. “It isn’t. But it’s a meal. Apple pie is a dessert,” he said reasonably.
Derek just shook his head. “I gotta be straight with you, kid, I can’t pay for this.”
Spencer shrugged. “Consider it handled.”
Derek looked at him in bewilderment. Did anyone at the diner care about making a buck? “Don’t need charity, kid.”
“It’s not charity,” Spencer said, as though Derek was ridiculously stupid. “It’s a burger. A free burger. Would you really turn down a free burger?” Spencer looked at him expectantly, and Derek couldn’t help but laugh.
“Guess that would be pretty stupid, huh?” He asked, and Spencer nodded in agreement. “Alright then.” He slid the plate closer to him. “Thanks.” He smiled brightly at Spencer, who just shuffled modestly. Kid couldn’t have much money to him if he was earning pennies in a joint like that. “Care for a seat?” Derek asked and gestured across to the other side of the booth. “You can pick at my fries.”
Spencer shook his head. “I’m working.” He looked surprised by the offer.
“No offense Spencer, and I really mean no offense, but uh…” He leaned in, and Spencer followed suit. “I’m the only customer here.”
Spencer cast a look around the diner, and must have realized that Derek was right. “I-uh...still have to-.”
“Play cards in the back with Jim and Bob?” Derek asked sarcastically, and Spencer just crossed his arms and looked at him. “Come on, take a seat. You look beat.”
Spencer raised a brow. “I look beat?” He asked in wonderment. “Have you been unable to locate a mirror lately?”
“You trying to tell me I look anything less than gorgeous?” Derek asked in mock offense, and watched as Spencer rolled his eyes. He simply continued to grin. “Come on, take a load off, world won’t fall apart. Besides, I’ve barely had human contact in weeks.” Spencer’s face softened at that. “Have some pity for your elders.”
Spencer let out a laugh as he slipped in across the booth from Derek. “My elders?” He asked in amazement. “Please. You’re probably not much older than I am.”
Derek just smirked back. “For all you know I might just have amazing silky smooth skin.” Derek said. “Besides, come on, the beard makes me look old.”
“Unkempt,” Spencer replied. “Not old.”
Derek gave him a look, but then couldn’t stay offended for more than a second. “I’ll take what I can get,” he replied. He picked up the burger and took a bite, savoring the flavor as he shut his eyes. He hadn’t eaten a good meal for far too long.
“Glad you enjoy it,” Spencer said happily, and Derek slowly let his eyes slit open. “You know the origins of the hamburger are actually pretty interesting. It was first created in America in 1900 by Louis Lassen, a Danish immigrant, owner of Louis’ Lunch in New Haven, Connecticut. Of course, there have been rival claims by Charlie Nagreen, Frank and Charles Menches, Oscar Weber Bilby, and Fletcher David. White Castle traces the origin of the hamburger to Hamburg, Germany with its invention by Otto Kuase. However, it gained national recognition-OW!” Derek had been staring at Spencer, bewildered, until Delilah had cut off his rant with a smack to the back of his head.
“Let the man eat his burger,” she reprimanded, one finger pointed at Spencer, who was rubbing the back of his head. “None of your genius boy nonsense.” She then turned to look at Derek. “I apologize, honey.”
“No harm no foul, sugar,” Derek said, recovering quickly. “Never thought I’d learn so much about a burger.”
“Well, since Spencer here got a job I’ve learned more than I ever wanted to know about anything.” She shook her head. “Kid knows how many kernels there are in an average cob.”
“800,” Spencer confirmed, and Derek went back to staring at him. “Arranged in sixteen separate rows.”
Derek turned his head to look back at Delilah for an explanation. “Genius,” Delilah explained. “Can you believe it? A genius working at a hellhole like this.”
“You’re a genius?” Derek asked Spencer, and the boy shrugged modestly.
“I don’t believe intelligence can be accurately quantified,” Spencer replied. “But I already have two PhDs, working on another, an IQ of 187, and can read 20,000 words per-minute.” Derek just continued to gape at him as Spencer sunk down in the booth.
“Now, tell him your age, kiddo, don’t be shy,” Delilah urged him on. Spencer looked up at her pitifully, but she moved her hand in a continuing motion until Spencer hung his head in defeat.
“Eighteen,” Spencer said.
Derek whistled lowly once he’d overcome his temporary shock. “Well,” he said as he took a sip of his coffee. “Just when you thought you’d seen everything.”
“No kidding,” Delilah agreed. “I’ve had four babies, three husbands, and a whole life I’ve lived and I’ve never seen anything like him before.” Delilah shook her head. “He’s a good pit stop in between your travels. Trust me, they don’t make ‘em like this anywhere else.”
“I’m just going to pretend you’re complimenting me,” Spencer said.
“I’m still stuck on the three husbands,” Derek said, and smirked at Delilah, who waved him off.
“Honey, keep sweet talkin’ me and I just might make you my forth,” she warned him.
“Run while you can!” One of the guys screamed from behind the counter. “She takes ‘em and breaks ‘em!”
“If I ever got anyone as sweet as you, I wouldn’t mind being a broken man,” Derek said to her as he looked her up and down. The guy behind the counter groaned in distaste.
“You see?” Delilah gestured to Derek. “This is a prime example of what a man should be! I’m having you call up my ex-husbands.”
“With pleasure,” Derek said. “Must be fools to let go of someone as fine as you.”
Delilah just grinned and then turned to look at Spencer, who scooted over a little bit in fear. “You best be giving him good service,” she said.
“I am, Ma’am!” Spencer assured her. “He wanted me to sit, I promise!”
“Then you sit,” Delilah ordered, Spencer nodded rapidly. “In this case, the customer is always right.” She nodded towards Derek and then once again walked back to her post, although it seemed useless. No one was coming their way.
Derek just grinned at Spencer, who continued to look at Delilah with fear. “Genius, huh?”
“I already explained that,” Spencer muttered. He looked at Delilah out of the corner of his eye again. “Thought despite all that, I can’t put together how you managed to get Delilah wrapped around your finger.”
“It’s easy, kid,” Derek answered. “To get someone wrapped around your finger, you make them think you’re wrapped around theirs.”
Spencer turned back to look at him in surprise, he seemed to take the words in before he merely nodded. Derek could tell he didn’t really get it, but that was fine. “So, what’s a genius doing working at a diner?”
“A genius still needs money,” Spencer answered, and shook his head when Derek offered him a fry. Derek just slipped in his mouth.
“But a diner? This diner?” Derek asked. “The tips must suck.”
“I’m being lectured in money by a man who couldn’t afford a burger,” Spencer said, bemused. Derek just pointed a fry to him, almost threateningly.
“Do as I say, not as I do.” He held his arms out widely. “I look like the type of guy you want to model yourself after?”
Spencer considered him for a moment, and Derek could have sworn he saw the kid do a quick scan of his body, before his eyes flickered to meet Derek’s. “You do have a pretty nice beard,” he answered lightly, Derek momentarily lost his composure as he laughed. “You’ve also got Delilah giving you free meals. Your life doesn’t seem half bad right now.”
“Ah, yeah, take out the sweat and the malnutrition, and I’m living the dream,” Derek joked lightly, but he saw Spencer’s face cloud with regret. “Don’t even. You start looking at me with pity and I might get so insulted I’ll walk out without the apple pie.”
“Trust me, you don’t want to walk out without the apple pie,” Spencer said seriously. “It’s delicious, and for just today, free.”
“Can’t turn down free apple pie, my Mama would be ashamed of my manners,” Derek answered easily with a small grin at the mention of his Mother. He saw Spencer pick up on it right away, saw the boy stare at him analytically, as though he was a book Spencer was studying. It made him uncomfortable, but he refused to show it. He wouldn’t be intimidated by a boy who could have a strong breeze knock him on his ass.
“So, what do you do?” Spencer inquired. “For a job,” he clarified. “You said you’re looking for work in the area.”
Derek shrugged, and wiped his mouth with the plain white napkin. Why mess with a classic, he guessed. “Remodeling, usually,” he answered. He’d proceeded to sweep some of his crumbs off of the cool, yellow, surface and into the napkin, when he realized Spencer still stared at him. His explanation apparently hadn’t satisfied the curious younger man. “I like to fix up houses, when I can. I do whatever work comes my way now, though. Best at fixing things.” He shrugged. “I like fixing things.”
“Probably because it satisfies you,” Spencer suggested. Derek looked at him oddly. “Sometimes we feel helpless, and like we do no good, it’s nice to see something you’re visually making better.”
Derek just shook his head, though he was still amused. “Never would have expected to walk into a place like this and get psychoanalyzed by a miniature genius.”
“Miniature?” Spencer asked in offense, and Derek fought back a grin. “You do realize I’m taller than you, right?”
“How would you know?” Derek asked, although he knew the genius was correct. “We haven’t done a back to back.”
“I saw you walk in,” Spencer said triumphantly. “I’m taller.”
“Still tiny,” Derek said, his eyes averted to Spencer’s tiny little wrist. Spencer frowned and tugged down on his shirt sleeve insecurely, which made Derek momentarily regret the teasing. “Eh, don’t worry about it, Spencer, ladies are starting to dig the lithe guys.”
“Please do inform me when that craze starts to infect this area,” Spencer said dryly. “I don’t think it has reached here yet.”
Derek chuckled. “Problems with the ladies, huh?” Spencer just flushed, probably regretted that he brought it up. “I wouldn’t stress it. Work on the genius talk, keep your pretty face, and you’ll have girls falling to their knees.”
Spencer raised his eyebrows, and his mouth popped open in shock. “Pretty?!” He asked. He sounded more shocked than insulted.
“Sure, pretty. You’re a pretty guy. A pretty boy, in fact,” Derek said with a grin. “Just tone down some of the burger facts.” If it was even the ladies that Spencer was going for, that was. Derek couldn’t help but think the kid was eyeing him with far too much appreciation. Not that he minded. Was a great compliment that in his state he could still bring out some form of attraction. Even if the attraction came from a tiny little genius who moonlighted as a diner boy.
Spencer seemed to just let the comments roll off his back, though there was still a slight heat to his cheeks. He looked torn as to whether or not to take Derek’s remarks as an insult, or as a compliment. He seemed to plead the fifth on the issue, and change the topic. “So, you like fixing houses, huh?”
“Mhm,” Derek hummed, his lips connected to the rim of his coffee mug as he slurped the delicious drink greedily. His water rest beside it, ice nearly melted and drink neglected.
“There’s this woman, Mrs. Warren, she’s a wealthy lady who just bought a project house,” Spencer informed him, and Derek set his drink down to lean in with interest. He stared intently as Spencer continued on. “She’s looking for someone to fix it up for her, doesn’t know what she’s doing. Probably trying to get it on the cheap, but money isn’t really an issue for her. You might be able to get some work there,” Spencer advised him.
Derek looked at him, the appreciation on his face hadn’t even begun to express the appreciation he felt on the inside. “That sounds great, Spencer,” he said earnestly. “Any idea the address? Or her number?”
“I have both memorized,” Spencer replied easily, and pulled out his pad of paper and his bright blue ballpoint pen. He tucked his tongue in between his teeth, so it slightly pointed out of his lips, as he quickly scribbled everything down, and handed it over.
Derek looked at the piece of paper in his hand, the scribbled address and phone number, and released a sigh of relief. “I owe you a lot if this works out in my favor, kid.”
“If it works out, just buy me a burger and we’ll call it even,” Spencer drawled sarcastically, but Derek just continued to stare at the paper.
“Well, Spencer, looks like if this works out I just might be staying here for awhile yet.”
Spencer grinned, almost proudly. “Well, then I should probably go get you a piece of celebratory apple pie,” he said as he gazed at Derek’s empty plate. Derek just nodded. “Drink your water,” Spencer ordered as he picked up the plate and walked away.
Derek just shook his head as he looked up from the paper to see the young man walk away. First stop he’d made, and he’d already met the most interesting person he could have imagined.
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.
Spencer was right. The apple pie was truly amazing. It was warm, with just the right amount of cinnamon and a dollop of real whipped cream to top it off. The crust was flaky, but not overcooked, and it honestly almost brought tears to his eyes. It tasted like home.
“You like it?” Spencer asked with excitement, as though he was second-hand eating the pie. Derek could only muster up an approving moan. “English apple pie recipes go back to the time of Chaucer, you know? The 1381 recipe lists the ingredients as: good apples, good spices, figs, raisins, and pears! The cofyn of the recipe is a casting of pastry. Saffron is used for coloring the pie filling,” Spencer told him cheerfully, yet almost absentmindedly, as though he hadn’t a clue how strange his apple pie knowledge was.
“Good apples, huh?” Derek inquired. “Well, kid, I think you did this pie wrong, then.” Spencer frowned in concern, and gazed at the pie as though he was looking for a visual flaw. “These are great apples.” Derek had to resist rolling his eyes at his own corny joke, and felt like a complete loser, so he was even more than shocked when Spencer actually let out a loud laugh that made him throw a hand up to cover it slightly. Derek just watched in amusement as the last of the laugh tapered off into a wheeze.
“An IQ of 187 and you just laughed at a stupid apple pie joke,” Derek said in disbelief. Spencer just continued to try to regain his bearings, obviously still pitifully amused. “Hey, Spencer, these aren’t good spices…” He trailed off and lay in wait.
“They’re GREAT spices,” Spencer finished, like an excited kid, and Derek found himself laughing as he scooped up a small dollop of the whipped cream and swiped it on Spencer’s nose, he watched in amusement as he went cross eyed.
“Come on now,” Derek urged him on. “Aren’t you going to tell me who invented whipped cream?”
“I get the sinking feeling you don’t really want to know,” Spencer said, and swiped out a napkin to get the cream off of his nose. Derek was tempted to put more on, but held back the temptation. It might have just been the complete lack of decent human interaction, but he was feeling happier than he had in a very long time.
“Mmm...wasn’t it invented only a couple years ago or so?” Derek asked, and tried not to let the mischief he felt show in his eyes, as he saw one of Spencer’s twitch. “Invented by a...Frank? Was it Frank? Pretty sure it was Frank.”
“Whipped cream, often sweetened and aromatised, was popular in the 16th century,” Spencer blurted, unable to take the purposeful incorrectness of Derek’s “facts” any longer. “With recipes in the writings of Cristoforo di Messisbugo, Bartolomeo Scappi, and Lancelot de Casteau. Believe it or not, it was called milk snow. A 1545 English recipe, “A Dyschefull of Snow), includes whipped egg whites, as well, and is flavored with rosewater and sugar,” Spencer finished with a pointed glare at Derek’s amused face.
“Milk snow, huh?” Derek mused. “We should go back to that. I like it more.”
Spencer smiled a little bit again. “It sounds nicer, but it makes less sense,” he replied. “Whipped cream is a lot more of a logical title for it.”
Derek shook his head. “Traveled all this way to talk about the logical aspects of whipped cream.” He took another bite of the heavenly pie, and savored the taste. “Life barely even seems real right now.”
“Where are you from?” Spencer asked with interest. He was a curious little thing, Derek had come to realize. He probably wasn’t invasive, or at least didn’t mean to be, but he just liked to know everything.
“Everywhere,” Derek answered cryptically. At the sad look that had come over the kid’s face at the lack of information Derek was willing to divulge, he cracked slightly. “Chicago originally.” The man seemed contemplative on that fact. “What about you, Spencer? Always hang your hat up here?”
Spencer shook his head, long hair flapping ridiculously. “I’m from Las Vegas Nevada, originally,” he said.
Derek was in for yet another shock that day, and had to hold himself back from allowing his jaw to literally drop to the floor. “You’re from Vegas?” He asked.
“‘Course he is!” One of the other guys called, obviously he’d been listening in to their conversation. Derek assumed with the lack of other customers, the people at the diner must be quite the busy bodies of the single consumer. “He’s a royal cheat at cards!”
“It’s mathematics and statistics!” Spencer called back at him indignantly.
“You want statistics?! You’re 100% full of shit!” The guy called back at him, and Spencer’s and Derek’s eyebrows shot up.
“Oh, Larry,” Delilah snapped at him. “Still it with the language. You’re the reason we have no customers.”
“Oh, yeah, I’m the reason!” The guy, Larry, replied back sarcastically. “Because this place just reeks with appeal!”
“Well, what you guys don’t have in appeal you make up for in good food,” Derek told Spencer, and gestured to his plate.
“Yeah, we do, but sadly appeal is normally what people care about,” Spencer said sadly, his fingers drew odd designs on the surface of the table, and Derek watched it as though he was in a trance.
“Yeah, appeal is usually what drags people in, isn’t it?” Derek asked, and waited for Spencer to reach his eyes before he winked. Spencer just smiled shyly in return.
“Well, Spencer,” Derek begun, and felt an odd sense of regret build in his chest. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to get going,” he said. He could have been mistaken, but he was pretty sure Spencer looked disappointed, as well. “How much was the coffee?”
Spencer just flipped his hand carelessly. “Don’t worry about it,” he said.
Derek leveled him with a look. “I told you, I don’t take charity.”
“I’m not going to get worked up over a bit of change,” Spencer said stubbornly, arms crossed over his chest.
Derek dug into his pocket, and threw some change onto the table, it probably equaled two bucks, more than the coffee even was, most likely. “Then consider this a tip.” When Spencer looked as though he was about to protest, Derek held a hand up to silence him. “You live off this stuff. Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.”
Spencer paused for a moment, before he nodded and scooped up the change into his palm. “Thanks,” he said softly.
“Not a problem.” Derek stood up, and smiled down at the young man. “If this works out for me.” He held up the piece of paper. “Looks like I’ll be seeing you around.” Spencer actually beamed back up at him with that. Huh, he guessed he maybe did grow on the kid.
He was about to walk out, after he gave Delilah a kiss on the cheek, but he was halted by Spencer. “Wait!” He called, and Derek turned around. “What’s your name?”
“Derek,” he replied. “Derek Morgan.”
~.~.~.~.~.
Spencer Reid had been working at the diner for awhile. It wasn’t like it was his favorite job in the world, he would have much preferred a job with books, but at some point you had to take what you could get. Even if it only put a pitiful amount of change in his pocket.
The day after he’d run into to Derek...Derek Morgan, he was cleaning up the counters. Not taking any crumbs off, not really, mostly just taking away the dust that had built up. He had to sigh sadly, it was a shame no one really came in. They’d get travelers every once and awhile, like Derek, well...not like Derek at all. The travelers were usually mean spirited, and would have never requested Spencer to sit down with them and have a conversation. No one had ever asked Spencer to do that.
He’d felt his cheeks warm up when he remembered Derek telling him he was pretty. He hated to admit to himself that he’d spent the night prior mulling over if it was an insult or a compliment. It was odd, coming from anyone else he’d assume he was being mocked, but coming from the kind drifter? Spencer couldn’t help but feel flattered.
Of course, flattery was a dangerous weapon, and the inclination for kindness he felt towards Derek might have been solely brought on by his charm. They always charged travelers, if they didn’t they wouldn’t make anything. But Derek? Derek was different. He’d even seemed to thaw Delilah’s cool heart.
It was hot in the diner, as the AC struggled. It was summer, and normally during the summer he would have head back home...but home was no longer home. Not since his Mom had been admitted. He no longer had family to rush home to, check on, make sure they were doing okay. He was too much of a coward to even visit her in the sanitarium, all he could manage was to send her a letter a day. His most recent one had been on Derek. How pathetic he was, his life so dull that all he could write about was a drifter who wandered his way into their diner. Though, he supposed his Mom might have felt pride in the fact that he’d helped the man out. Given him the name of a motel, a free meal, and a possible job.
“That was a kind thing you did yesterday,” Delilah told him. She stood beside him as he cleaned up the counters. He looked to her in inquiry. “Giving that man the lady’s address and number. Helpin’ him get a job. It was sweet.”
Spencer shrugged in a dismissive fashion. He watched as the soapy cloth left little bubbles in its wake. They popped at random, sometimes they’d leave tinier bubbles behind. “He looked like he needed a good break.”
Delilah snorted. “Don’t we all,” she replied wistfully.
“Don’t we all,” Spencer agreed as he eyed the plain diner. The horrible clashing colors, the machines that didn’t work, it made his heart ache. He’d heard stories of once upon a time. Back when the diner was in its full glory. He would have loved to have seen it.
“Best be careful, though, kiddo,” Delilah told him seriously, and Spencer looked at her in confusion. “Falling off a stallion is a lot more painful than not getting on the horse at all.”
Spencer eyed her in complete confusion. “Huh?” He asked.
Delilah just smiled at him, and clapped him on the shoulder. “Trust me, I’ve lived longer. Men like that? They’re there for a few months, and its grand, but sooner or later that stallion will want to run free.”
“I don’t understand why you’re telling me this,” Spencer said, still perplexed.
Delilah just smiled, boldly pink painted lips cracked with the movement. “Because I care,” she said cryptically.
Spencer was about to say something else, but the door to the diner flew open to reveal Derek. Spencer instantly let go of his cloth, more excited than he ever thought he would be to see the man again, especially since he was grinning.
“Derek,” he greeted. “Can I get you something?” He asked. He wanted to smack his hand into his forehead once he realized he really should have seated him and offered him a drink first.
“Actually, kid, looks like I’m going to be getting you a burger sometime soon,” Derek said, smile triumphant and eyes alight. Spencer’s own face split into a grin as the meaning of the words came back to him. He flew out from behind the counter.
“You got the job!” He said with excitement. Much too much excitement for a man he’d only just met the day before.
“I got the job!” Derek confirmed.
“Well, then, let’s forget the free pie,” Delilah said, her hands clasped together. “Today you’re getting a free slice of cake, your choice!”
Spencer’s jaw nearly dropped, free pie and now free cake? Delilah should have saved her warning for herself. “Go for the chocolate,” Spencer whispered to Derek, who he then stood next to. “Always go for the chocolate.”
“A little birdie told me you’ve got some fine chocolate cake,” Derek said, with a grin tossed next to him at Spencer, and then back to Delilah.
“Only the best!” Delilah agreed joyfully. “Liam! Whip the man up some chocolate cake! We’re celebrating!” She then looked to Spencer. “Ah, what the hell, whip up two of ‘em! The kid needs to eat more!”
“It’s fine!” Spencer assured her. “I don’t need-.”
“Come on, kid,” Derek said, and whacked him in the arm. “What’s a celebration without a little cake?”
Spencer caved, and only a little while later he was once again seated with Derek, at the very same booth, a slice of chocolate cake in front of each of them. He laughed some more, enjoyed the conversation, and once again felt his heart ache when Derek eventually left.
He hadn’t been able to pinpoint the exact feeling he’d gotten. All he knew was it was a strong feeling of loss. But he’d surely take the loss over and over again, so long as he got the same joy that had come over him when Derek walked back into the diner.