A Triple Shot of Love
It all seemed so long ago that the two men met, it was actually an accident. Alfred was on his way to the train station running late as usual; soft pants escaped his throat as he rounded another corner.

Something firm took him by surprise as he fell to the ground papers began floating around him. He quickly scrambled to re-organize them, "I'm…so sorry. I was in a hurry and I wasn't watching where I was…" he looked up only to be struck silent by the platinum haired man towering over him.

"Going," he slowly finished the last part of his sentence. Ivan looked down at him, his piercing violet eyes locking in with the American's blue eyes.

Alfred gazed back up at the mysterious man for another moment before it dawned on him that he was going to miss his train. He quickly jumped up, apologized one more time and then bolted for the station.

Ivan looked slightly confused; he shrugged and started to walk away when he heard a rustle underneath his foot.

Ivan looked down to see what he had stepped on; it was a tan book with a sepia toned picture of a tree on the front of it; below the photo written in thin black ink was 'Alfred's Work' in wispy letters.

He bent over and picked it up so that he could inspect it, he promptly turned it over and looked at the back and then flipped back and opened the book to the front page to see if he could find some type of contact number, "Alfred Jones... 215 N. Monroe Street… If lost please call (773) 562-0818," Ivan read softly. He closed the book and placed it under his arm and made his way down the street.

Alfred arrived at his destination and quickly made his way off of the platform and down the stairs, he ran down the street nearly avoiding two yellow taxis and a bus.

He made his way into the café where he worked part time; he was out of breath as he walked into the back to put on his uniform which was a pair of black shoes, pants and a tie. While the top half of him was dressed in a white button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up with a white apron tied at the waist over the front of him.

He signed his name in on the clipboard and walked back towards the front of the show when suddenly one of his friends approached him, "You just barely made it this time Alfred. You have to be more on top of things like this," he looked at Alfred with a soft look of disapproval.

Alfred looked back at the black haired man with the moe features, "Sorry Kiku, my alarm didn't go off until 6:50 this morning," he rubbed the back of his head looking down.

Kiku's stern look faded and was replaced with a small smile, "It's all right, just be a little more careful. I can't keep covering for you. I think our boss is starting to catch on… even if he's rarely here," Kiku walked away and began cleaning off the tables.

Alfred began turning on the machines and re-organizing the cups, straws, utensils and napkins. He glanced at the clock, "It looks like I have a little time today," he went to the back and looked inside of his olive green messenger bag. He rummaged through his bag attempting to find his book; he took it off of the hook and completely opened it.

"Where is it?" his eyes began to widen slightly, "It was here thirty-five minutes ago…" he began to worry. He thought about where he was thirty-five minutes ago only to draw a blank as to where he may have misplaced his prized possession.

"Well maybe I just left it at the apartment and I thought I had it on me," he said trying to re- assure himself even though he highly doubted that that was the case. He sighed trying to re-trace his steps in his mind, "I just can't…" he said as his hand balled into a fist and then softened again.

"Alfred… we're opening up shop!" Alfred sighed and closed his bag. He walked through the door and began his day, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in his heart.

Business hadn't started to really pick up until around 9:30 in the morning; the same as any other day at the café. Alfred served his customers absent mindedly replying with a soft, "Hello, welcome to Café Aroma," every time the bell above the door rang.

For Alfred the day seemed to lag; he wanted to leave so he could search for his precious treasure, but he had to stay and continue to work.

He glanced at the television in the corner above one of the booths, wiping the same spot he had already run the damp towel over repeatedly with in the past five minutes.

The weather forecast caught his attention as he rested his head against his hand, "It was gorgeous this morning but we have some grey skies to look forward to later today around 1:00 pm and from the looks of it the rain isn't going to let up until around early evening 4:30 pm or so," Alfred's head popped up quickly as he heard the forecast.

"My book… my book will be ruined!" the golden haired man thought to himself. He looked at the clock framed in black to the side of him," It's already noon?" he began to fret even more. Until it occurred to him that his lunch break began in the next nine minutes.

"Maybe I could look for it then," his face lit up a little as a sliver of hope shone brightly through his blue eyes. He quickly put on his jacket and filled out the clipboard in back with the words 'Lunch Break' as he ran through the door; the sound of the bell above the door echoing behind him.