Work Text:
You weren't sure what was the first time you served him. Maybe that rainy night when it was only you and the chef on the clock. Maybe it was the time he dragged himself in, dark circles under his eyes but still ordered a cup of coffee. Maybe it was the day he brought a friend with him for the first time, a cheery Scotsman (from what you could place in his accent) combating his companion's quiet and brooding demeanor.
You lost track of how many times you served him. But he was always your best customer.
So seeing him in his usual booth on Christmas Eve didn't shock you at first. You had been called in at the last minute, as the waitress meant to take the shift had conveniently called in sick.
What shocked you was the fact he was the only customer in the diner. Pair that with the late hour of the evening, and you were surprised he was still around. He nurses the cup of coffee in his hand like it was his last drink ever.
"Lover boy seems awfully lonely today," the chef points out from behind the window, disturbing you from your singing. Your boss made it clear to play holiday music on the jukebox, and no matter how many times you'd listen to them, they were too catchy not to sing along to.
You scoff, rolling your eyes. "We all are, Tobias. It's Christmas Eve and we're here instead of being out of town, with family and friends…"
"Or alone with our cat by the fire," he cuts in.
You point your pen menacingly at him. "Leave Leona out of this! She's a nice kitty. Now where's my food?"
"I'm just saying." He sets the warm plate on the window. "Go give your man some company. Not like anyone else is coming out here today."
You only nod. It wasn't like the diner you both worked in was in the busiest part of town. More like tucked away by the offramp of a highway no one really used anymore. Only a couple of truckers would stop in if you were lucky. But with the snowfall the day before, no one dared travel the roads this far from downtown.
You grab his plate, but Tobias's shout of your name stops you. Your eye catches on the extra plate on the windowsill.
"Made you your favorite, too. So no chickening out on this."
You roll your eyes and make your way over to the table with both plates in hand. Along the way, you slip an extra mug on your finger, deciding your own cup of coffee would help chase away the season's chill.
"Can I get you anything else?" you ask your mystery man, setting the steak and eggs in front of him. His usual plate no matter the hour, as evidence of the clock on the wall behind you and the dimming sunlight outside.
He shakes his head no, his black face mask ever present when he waited for his meal.
"Mind if I join you, then?"
He clears his throat. "Not at all."
You place your plate opposite his on the table and slip into the booth. "I don't think I've ever gotten your name…"
"Simon."
You repeat the name back to him, liking how it feels on your tongue. With the way it falls off your lips, he swears he's ready to bend to your will and do whatever you ask.
You tell him your own name, laughing soon after. "But you probably knew that already with my nametag."
And their laugh. He knows that if he didn't get your number before the day was over, he'd probably go mad. And Soap would never hear the end of it on their next assignment.
Simon gives your name the same treatment you did his. "It suits you, actually."
You give him a smile and a thanks before digging into your plate, finally realizing just how hungry you were. He joins in, starting his own meal in a comfortable silence.
"How's the holidays treating you?"
He takes a drink of his coffee. "It's cold as hell. But at least I'm in here."
"Heh. I second that. More coffee?"
"Let me." He grabs the carafe and fills your mug before giving himself a refill. "Never been one for coffee, actually."
You raise an eyebrow at that. "A tea drinker?" His nod makes you continue. "Why not order that instead?"
"You served the coffee."
You feel your cheeks heat at that, and you have to glance away to calm down even slightly.
He chuckles, even though it's faint against your ears. "But I'll keep the cuppa in mind for next time, love."
Oh, this man was going to be the death of you. Your first actual conversation with Simon, and he was going to make you a blushing mess on the floor by the time you even finished your plate.
The two of you spend the next span of time getting to know each other, with no other moments of embarrassment, you might add to your comfort. The most you're able to get out of him was his work as a soldier, but you knew better than to pry any more than he wanted to give. You quickly change the subject to both your interests, how you both prefer to pass the time when not working, and the like.
The clock chimes the hour, and you're surprised by the time.
"Is it really that late?" you ask. "Time flies in good company."
Simon chuckles. "Probably why your friend's gone back there."
You turn your head and notice the darkness of the kitchen. Tobias's car was also missing from his usual spot out back.
"Fucker left when I wasn't looking," you say, shaking your head in disbelief.
Simon chuckles. "He seems like a good man."
"Tobias? Yeah, he is, most of the time."
"He should be. Told you to come join me, didn't he?"
"Ah, you heard a bit of that, huh?"
He leans forward, resting his elbows against the table. "I hear a lot of things, love."
You blink, quickly thinking of how to change the subject as your cheeks burn again. "Y-Yeah, he knows a bit. Twenty years of marriage with his wife, Diana. So he should know a thing or two about relationships."
"A very good man, then."
"He's also ex-FBI, so I'd watch yourself, Simon."
He laughs at that. It was the most heavenly sound you've heard in a laugh in a long time. "I'll behave, love."
"Another coffee?" you ask, rising to take the now empty plates to the back.
You can tell he's still grinning even behind his mask, as his smile reaches up to his eyes. You were starting to notice that you liked this side of him. A somewhat talkative, almost flirty Simon.
"I'll take it to-go, if you don't mind."
----
After tidying up after your meals, you go through your closing routine. Simon watches you the entire time, cradling both cups of coffee as he waits by the door for you to finish.
Your phone chimes the moment you both step away from the building. Opening the notification, you curse under your breath.
"Something up?"
"My bus just got cancelled," you sigh. "Guess that means I'm walking home-"
Simon cuts you off. "Out of the question. I'll drive you home."
"I can't ask you to do that. Plus, we just officially met." You shrug. "You could be the town's axe murderer for all I know."
He raises an eyebrow. "You find me terrifying now?"
"The worst, Simon," you challenge with a smirk.
"Then, I guess I'm not worthy of meeting Leona, then."
"Well…" You tap your chin as if in thought. "I'm sure some arrangements can be made."
And with that, your mystery man leads you to his Jeep, making sure you're warm and buckled in, keeping the holiday tunes rolling as he drives to your humble little living space.