A Coffee Date? [Francis/Tino]

[Tino Väinämöinen]

If I told you what I was,

Would you turn your back on me?

A bell jangled loudly as Tino slipped through the café door, welcoming the wave of warmth that washed up over him. Finally, some place that was actually above sub-zero temperatures. Tino stopped at the doormat, stomping his boots twice to shake the snow from them before walking to the counter. Thankfully it wasn’t snowing today, so he didn’t have to do the same to his jacket.

He stopped midstride to sneeze into his sleeve, blowing his nose on an endless supply of Kleenexes in his pocket. He knew he should have dried off sooner, but noooooooo. A sigh passed his lips as he waited in line, debating what to order. Logically, he should have gone with some sort of tea to clear his head, but his desires for caffeine (and nicotine) were winning out. He would have preferred to sit indoors and smoke and sip coffee in this comfy, warm place, but only two out of his three wishes could be granted. He had to sacrifice either the cigarette or the warmth. Deciding that he could smoke all he wanted in his cabin, he decided to stick with a coffee at one of the tables.

The cue was moving slow, so Tino merely closed his eyes and waited patiently. What kind of coffee did he want? A Columbian blend? Dark roast? Tino honestly didn’t care at this point. He was sick of the instant crap he was consuming because he had no electricity (hence no plugin for a coffee maker). Not to mention his last shift had really pissed him off (he was tired of dealing with Mathias’s stupid, haughty attitude problem). Tino’s stomach began to clench and he could feel his palms growing moist in response to his stress over the past week, involving the Underground and his sad state of affairs with his living area. Such was the life of a drug addict; after all, Tino hadn’t escaped Moscow without contracting his own issues that lingered in his mind. To be completely honest, he’d prefer heroin at the moment, but illicit drugs were a big no-no for a government agent. He clenched his jaw as he waited for coffee to be his cheap replacement fix.

He was finally addressed to by a cashier, to which he ordered the largest size of black coffee that they sold. When his total was displayed, he reached into his pocket to pull out some change, but felt alarm when there was no familiar jingle of coins. The hell? He should have had more than enough pocket change to cover a simple coffee.

“Sorry, one sec…” he mumbled, patting other pockets before feeling his thumb slip through a hole in his front pouch. Ah… so that’s what happened to his money. He sighed, sliding off his work bag to riffle through it. “Sorry, lost my change. I’ll get it on debit.” He said, searching for the black wad of leather somewhere between the folds of his spare uniform. Normally, he might have been apologetic of the poor folks behind him in line, but he was not feeling well and his recent irritability over everything and anything in Archadia did not help. He sighed as he finally found what he was looking for and stood awkwardly as he rifled through plastic cards.

And if I seem dangerous,

Would you be scared?

tags: Cranky Tino, words: 549, notes: Finally got this up for you mona darling <3
Coded by: PerfectFallacy of Gangnam Style

[Deleted]

"This town is colder now, I think it's sick of us"

Cafés were quaint, and were among a few of the places Francis sincerely enjoyed visiting for pleasure, rather than business. They were quite relaxing; a place of serenity and solace where the comforting aroma of coffee beans always lingered. Warm, welcoming, and somewhere that was home when you needed it the most -- the entire prospect itself was lovely. As a child, Francis had always relished the rare chances he had had to rest in a café. He found that coffee was nice and caffeine could be useful, yes, but he fancied his tea more.

His order had taken little time to prepare; partly because it wasn’t too difficult, and partly because the staff of the café had nearly tripped over themselves when they found the attorney general in their presence. It was just a bit amusing to see them running around trying to do their best to impress him, but these were some of the reasons why he wished he could just be a regular, ordinary person. Guilt often accompanied his amusement when witnessing such acts, burning away at the bottom of his stomach, turning and turning and turning.

But Francis couldn’t lie -- he liked the attention. He certainly couldn’t deny that; it was nice being recognized, admired, famous. Of course, hate came hand in hand with love.

Francis didn’t take it personally, though. He was a politician, after all; he wasn’t to be trusted. But the irony was not lost on him -- the politicians are the people who are in control, they’re the ones who have the authority and exercise power over the civilians -- but they were also the ones who were least trusted by said civilians. The relationship was a questionable one, although it seemed to have worked for the past several centuries. People remained blissfully ignorant.

He took a sip of his tea. It was still just the slightest too hot to drink, and he blew the rising steam away towards the lights above. He chuckled at his own musings, and this brought back the reality of how lonely he was. Such thoughts were much more intriguing when shared with another, but Francis was unfortunately lacking the company.

The bell chimed cheerfully, acknowledging the entrance of a new customer, and Francis unconsciously glanced towards the door being pushed open. A figure came in; platinum blonde hair and cool violet eyes. Recognizable traits -- Francis only knew a select few who possessed such physical colors.

("Ivan," he said, admiringly, "you have such beautiful eyes--")

Tino Väinämöinen. A man not to be trifled with, nor underestimated. He was a killer; cold-hearted, and he was truly a living, breathing example of don’t judge a book by its cover. He appeared to be innocent enough, but that was hardly the case -- Francis had heard the rumors of how skilled a prison guard he was.

Of course, being his ever-so-attracted-to-trouble self, Francis immediately approached him.

“Bonjour, Tino! How nice, seeing you here,” Francis greeted, displaying his most disarming smiles. He placed a few bills on the counter. Hopefully Tino wouldn’t mind being treated to his coffee today. ”Here you are, monsieur,” he now addressed the cashier with a charming wink, ”I think this will be enough, oui?”

electric has gangnam style

SPOILER: Click to show

hopefully tino is okay with this hahahahaha........... sorry i took so long!! <3333

[Tino Väinämöinen]

If I told you what I was,

Would you turn your back on me?

Tino was ill, therefore he decided he could blame his muted senses and lack of awareness for not noticing someone come up behind him. Had he been somewhere else and in a different mindset, he could have chastised himself for being so ignorant to his surroundings. Yes, it was fine that an arm slid past him to place a few bills on the counter top, but it was no where near acceptable that it actually surprised Tino. Tino's eyes widened as he quickly turned to see who the generous individual was.

Tino could have narrowed his eyes instantly, but he didn't. Francis Bonnefoy. What did a well-known politician like himself want with Tino? And how did he know Tino's name and appearance so casually? Tino smiled a warm grin, eyes eagerly lighting up at the fact that Francis had come to his aid over a few dollars. He was causing a disturbance as it was.

"Mr. Bonnefoy?! Ah! Fancy seeing you here!" he exclaimed out of surprise, flashing a grin the the cashier as the took the creased bills. Tino couldn't help but notice that the employee straightened their posture, smiled wider, and moved quicker when preparing the hot beverage. He stepped to the side as another person pushed towards the register. Right, he was being a pain and was blocking the cue... but he was also in the presence of someone that he didn't exactly want to meet.

Politicians were dangerous and Tino despised them all. The higher ranked they were, the more Tino tended to tiptoe around them, and Francis was no common official. Only a select few actually knew of Tino Väinämöinen's existence, and the ones that did were threatened to secrecy. Tino's level was classified as beyond 5, branded to only be known by the Governor and their personally selected individuals (in particular, the ones that gave Tino orders. Tino was rarely allowed to be in the presence of the Governor for safety reasons). To most, he was a normal citizen with normal needs, registered to work as a full-time guard in the Underground (but few actually knew that unless they struck a conversation with the Fin and asked what his occupation was). Aside from the fact that he lived in the woods where few dared to trek, he was relatively anonymous. He was considered odd by some, but never malicious and always genuinely happy. His appearance and image were relatively calm and had little need to arise suspicion.

So, the question was, how did Francis Bonnefoy know his name so openly? Tino was a government employee, but otherwise, he couldn't think of any known reason why his name would be known. He had 'met' Francis once in the Underground, escorting him to an area and acting as a bodyguard of sorts to ensure no ill intention fell upon him, but that was all. He knew little of Francis's personal life outside what he heard from other employees. His profile was clean as far as Tino knew and he was highly thought of by the public. Perhaps the politician's memory was just sharp and Tino was overreacting and suspicious over basically nothing. Perhaps Francis was just being friendly. He was very wealthy; sparing change for someone else's coffee would not hurt him financially.

Tino bowed his head and looked up, grinning back to Francis, but he could feel the hairs on the back of his neck standing erect.

"Thank you! Money apparently burns a hole in my pocket, literally!" he said with a laugh, sticking his hand into his coat and wiggling two fingers out of the ripped gash in his right pouch. "I'll have to stitch that closed when I get home, unless you'll come to my aid every time I need a caffeine boost~" Tino added, winking back as his toothy grin resurfaced. The Fin's coffee was soon pushed towards him and he uttered a polite and bouncy 'thanks!' in return. He turned back to Francis, raising the cardboard cup to his lips to blow some of the steam from.

"Mind if I sit with you? That is, if you want company," Tino asked, looking eager to offer the politician a conversational companion in order to repay him for the drink.

And if I seem dangerous,

Would you be scared?

tags:&nbsp;Tino and Francis, words: 707, notes:&nbsp;Whoop sorry I didn't see your post!
Coded by: PerfectFallacy of Gangnam Style