Pairing/Characters: Charlie, The Haitian, Eden
Word Count: 579
Summary: Charlie knows that she should know him from outside the diner, but she doesn't know why.
Spoilers: Nothing specific. Season 1 in general.
Disclaimer: I claim no ownership over these characters. I am merely borrowing them from Tim Kring et al.
Feedback: Yes please! It makes me happy and keeps me writing.
Thanks to kallie_kat for the beta.
Dedicated to caoilainn. Happy Birthday! This isn't as long as I would have liked a birthday present to be, but I hope you enjoy it.
Charlie smiled to herself as Lynette nudged her, pointed to one of the booths and said, "Looks like your fella's back again."
"He's not my fella," Charlie protested, ready to deny the faint coloring of her cheeks. "We've never even really spoken. He always just sits there and drinks coffee."
"But he only ever sits in your section," Lynette pointed out. "And the way he stares at you… If he's not your fella, he damn sure wants to be."
"Cut it out," Charlie chastened her friend and grabbed the coffee pot to head over to the man's table.
She couldn't deny that he was handsome. Normally she didn't go for the whole Jungle Fever thing, but she'd have to be dumb and blind not to notice how handsome he was. Tall, dark and handsome, as the saying goes. He always wore well-fitted clothing and the light reflected a bit off his bald head. His eyes seemed like they could see through to her very soul.
She shook her head to try to dispel the fanciful thoughts as she approached his table.
"Coffee?" she politely asked. He silently turned the coffee cup over so that she could fill it. "Anything else that I can get for you today? We've got a great apple pie, just out of the oven." He shook his head, as she knew that he would. "All right then. Just holler if you need anything." She knew that he wouldn't.
Something niggled at the edge of her memory, but Charlie couldn't place the feeling, so she shook it off. Ever since she got back from that bender – which she couldn't remember having gone out on – that man had sent a chill down her spine. It was strange because he didn't act any differently from before.
"You're letting your mind play tricks on you again," Charlie chided herself, as she went to pick up an order for another table.
With her back to the door, Charlie didn't see the woman with short dark hair come into the diner and sit across from the handsome black man.
"Why do you keep coming back here?" Eden asked him. "She's already been bagged and tagged. This assignment is officially over."
The Haitian didn't answer. Not that she'd expected him to. He never answered her.
"Come on," Eden said. "Our new guest should be waking up soon. You're needed at headquarters."
The Haitian simply nodded and pulled out his wallet. He didn't need to see the bill; he'd been coming here long enough that he knew how much a cup of coffee cost.
He could never explain it to Eden, or anyone else for that matter, but the Haitian had his reasons for continuing to watch Charlie. Her specialty was remembering things. He needed to know if her natural ability would one day override his own power and re-supply her with the memories he had taken from her.
So far she appeared to remain ignorant of her time with the Company, but he had no way of knowing if that would remain the case.
So he returned every few days, watching and waiting.
Charlie turned as the bell over the door pinged. She saw her customer leaving and once again wondered why he set the hairs on her arms on end. That sense of déjà vu never entirely went away.
She knew that one day she would figure it out, but she decided not to worry about it until that day came.