Chapter Text
He liked his routine.
It was simple, orderly.
Solitary.
Not lonely no matter what Roxy said.
Alarm at 3:45am.
Showered, dressed and in the bakery kitchen by 4:25am at the latest.
Roll up the sleeves of his shirt and put an apron on over the shirt and tie. Yes he was overdressed for 4:30am baking, he knew this. But it made him happy, like he respected his products.
Put some coffee on and check on the overnight proofs and get them ready for the next step. Look at the board to see what to bake. Sip coffee and change out the lemon muffins for an apple one. It felt like an apple sort of day. He got to work and didn’t even have music on.
He liked the quiet.
The sky lightened where he couldn’t see it and he knocked at the bottom of bread that came out of the ovens and smiled at the perfect sound.
He made scones and for some reason thought about a vacation to Bermuda he had taken when 20. He smiled as he cut them. They came out fluffy and perfect.
Roxy stumbled in at 6:30 and went straight for the coffee before putting on her apron. She reached for a muffin and he stopped her.
“Wha?”
He handed her a scone instead. She bit in and sighed in content. “You were happy, nostalgic when you made these. They taste like a memory.”
He kissed her head and broke off a corner for himself. Good. People deserved a happy feeling today.
He took trays of bread to the front of the store and loaded the display. He put the large coffee pot on and saw Merlin already at the door even though they wouldn’t open for 10 minutes. He took pity on the man and unlocked the door. Merlin sat at a table.
“Fucking trojan horse,” Merlin muttered. “Up all night, didn’t make it home to Eggsy. Coffee and despair please.”
He rolled his eyes and poured Merlin a cup of coffee and cut him a slice of a danish. He had been thinking about a lost love when he had made it. He gave it to Merlin who took a bite and nodded. “Good,” he grunted even as wiped away a tear. “Good.” He ate in silence and went behind the counter to refill his coffee and disappeared a few doors down to his computer repair shop.
He finished filling the shelves and wiped the counter.
Roxy came out and took the chalkboard outside.
Percival nodded, it would be a good day today. He could feel it.
***************************************
“Hello,” Harry called out. He was supposed to be meeting Mister Unwin but no one was there. He started to walk around the museum a little bit, impressed with the displays.
“Avast ye mateys!” A man shouted as he jumped out in front of Harry in full pirate gear.
Harry didn’t even blink. “You are wearing the sash wrong,” he pointed out.
“Oh shut it, the kids love my pirate,” he answered.
Harry adjusted his shoulders a little bit and held his umbrella like a sword. “Avast ye mateys,” he said in a low and threatening voice.
“So that was brilliant, felt chills in my spine,” he grinned. “I’m Eggsy Unwin, and I’m guessing you’re Professor Hart.”
“Harry, please,” Harry replied. “You were rather insistent about an appointment.”
Eggsy took off his pirate hat and lead Harry to his tiny office. “Yup. The Uni and us have always had a partnership and you being the new guy in charge of the Music and Theatre Arts programme, figured we should meet. Want some coffee?”
“Thank you, one sugar and a splash of milk,” Harry replied and took a seat. Eggsy poured out from the tiny four cup machine he had in the corner and put out a few biscuits as well. “Anyways, I’m the children’s and events coordinator for the museum and we regularly use your students for when we do little skits, all volunteer and looks good on their resumes.”
“I didn’t know this,” Harry said. “I should know this.”
“The bloke before you, Chester, was sort of shite at paperwork, or knowing what was going on. And he was an arse. The whole world was grateful from the school pensioned him off and he moved back to London.” Eggsy bit into a biscuit and giggled. “Sorry, didn’t realize these were happy cookies,” he said like he expected Harry to understand what he meant. “Anyways, figured since you were new you might like to know what your students and some of your staff help out with. And see if maybe you wanted to help out too. You actually ever do any theatre or always been on the academic side?”
“I have done a little theatre work yes, a long time ago,” Harry said. He was curious and took a biscuit. It looked like a normal butter cookie. He bit in and a huge grin broke out over his face. He felt almost euphoric. He stopped the laugh that tried to escape.
“At least they aren’t the rage chocodoodles am I right?” Eggsy bit and laughed again. “Not for a first meeting. No matter that Merlin loves them, grumpy gus he is.”
Harry finished the biscuit, the smallest laugh finally escaping. “Merlin?”
“My husband,” Eggsy explained. He turned a photo on his desk to show Harry.
Harry stared in surprise. “Good lord, that’s Hamish Hamish.”
Eggsy stared back. “You’re where that nickname comes from?” His brain lined up all the information. “Oh my god, you’re Galahad.”
Harry groaned a bit. “I am.”
“I am texting him. Shit, can’t believe it’s you,” Eggsy’s thumbs were flying. “Eat another biscuit.” He put his phone down and it pinged a minute later. Eggsy snorted when he picked it up. “Yeah, you’re coming for dinner tonight. He says you owe him 20 quid.”
“Lies,” Harry said. But he was grinning. “I’ll come on one condition. You give me the recipe for these cookies.”
“Didn’t make them, bruv. We’re friends with a baker. Morton’s Morsels.” Eggsy gave him a card from somewhere in the desk. “Just...be careful. Ask Roxy for what a new person should go for.”
“Be careful?” Harry asked. It wasn’t the usual response for a bake shop.
Eggsy didn’t say anything more, just talked about Halloween plans for the museum and how he wanted Harry to help. They bickered over the plans for an hour and Harry felt satisfied by the end that it would be an interesting partnership.
Harry went back to his office, which was still being cleared out of King’s crap. He pitied the grad student that had to sort all the files. He went to a few other meetings and did his best to prepare for the classes that would start soon. As chair he only had two classes, but still he looked forward to teaching them. It was quickly approaching the 6pm that he was supposed to be at the address Eggsy had texted him. Harry decided that the recommended bake shop wasn’t too far and that he should bring a host gift.
He walked about, and only took a wrong turn once, finally getting a feel for the neighbourhood. He was at the shop in 20 or so minutes and looked at the front. It was a charming space. A simple grey awning with black writing, large windows showing three small tables and the bakery display. A traditional bell rang as he opened the door.
A man came out of the back and smiled at him.
“Hello, I am going to a house for dinner and thought I should bring dessert. Mister Unwin recommended your shop. We had the ‘happy’ biscuits at his office. They were a delight.” The man just nodded a thank you. Harry found himself talking more. “I’m Professor Hart. Harry. I am new to the area. Well newish, I moved to town a month ago. Been rather too busy to explore. But clearly that was a mistake.” He thought maybe the man was laughing at him just a little but he wasn’t saying anything. “Is a tie usual baker wardrobe?” Harry asked, looking at the Windsor knot just noticeable over the apron covered in chocolate smears and flour. The man just shrugged and adjusted the tie a bit, leaving some flour on it. “So...what should I bring Mr. Unwin and Mr. Weir?”
The baker disappeared into the back and Harry looked at the display. It was running low being the end of the day, but there were some delicious looking cream tarts. The man returned with a box. He saw where Harry was looking and just shook his head.
“They look delicious,” Harry protested. “2 please, of the custard tarts.”
The man shook his head again and held up the box.
Harry thought he understood. “No, I know that is for taking, but I was thinking those for myself.”
The baker shook his head more vehemently. He pointed and took Harry to the other case, with macarons in it.
Harry wondered if the tarts were near to going off or something. “Very well, a few of those then.”
The baker smiled and packed them up. He took both boxes to the counter and rang it up. The register had a large display and the man pointed at the total. Harry thought it bizarre but handed over the cash. The man returned the change and disappeared into the back.
3 blocks of his walk later, Harry realized the man had never said a word.
At the dinner after insults and history were told by Merlin and Harry that had Eggsy in stitches the dessert was brought out.
Eggsy grinned happily. “Lavender fairy cakes, Merlin.”
“Just half,” Merlin replied. “Ye know what they do to me.”
Eggsy gave him half a fairy cake and took a whole for himself. He took a bite and a blush rose in his cheek. “Not too loaded,” he said. “Harry you want one?”
“Loaded?” He looked to Merlin who was also flushed and had a sparkle in his eye. “Ahhh, laced with alcohol are they?”
“Something like that,” Eggsy agreed.
“No then,” Harry demurred. He didn’t like liquor flavoured desserts. He drank a dram of whiskey while they sat and continued their story telling. It was a pleasant night and he and Merlin arranged a lunch meeting later in the week.
He went home and decided to eat a couple of the macarons.
Harry put on some music and danced about. When he was in bed later, he wondered at that. He hated dancing alone.
And he had forgot to ask the other men about the rather odd baker.
No matter, he could ask Merlin later.
**************************************************
Percival closed the shop at precisely 700pm. He cleaned the front and then checked on the breads he had earlier to proof overnight. He checked his inventory and made some notes on his board. He went upstairs to his flat and had a shower and ate a late sandwich and read a book.
Roxy would be mad that he hadn’t said a word all day.
But perhaps she wouldn’t find out.
He was in bed at 10:00pm. Lights out at 10:15pm.
He had been right. It had been a good day, all in all.
He wondered if the macarons had made the stranger dance.