Strangest Places


Author: Ladelle

Rating: T, One-shot-ish

Comments: I want to write more one-shots 'cause series stories are starting to make my mind fizzle, lol. Thank you Ras, for challenging me...haha.


oooOOOooo

It was a rare occasion that Sasuke landed a day off of work. In fact, it was so rare that he wasn't entirely sure what to do with himself. He had slept in until eight in the morning, wandered aimlessly around his downtown flat, attempted to clean what was already tidy, and when he had exhausted himself from menial tasks, collapsed into a chair beside his dining room table.

Even though he had slept in later than usual, he felt tired—drained, simply because he was cooped up at home. He had never been the type to be outgoing, even when he was younger. He had been athletic enough for tennis in high school, and smart enough for an economy major in college, and now, before his 23rd birthday, he was simply a product of America's twenty-four hour lifestyle. He was a workaholic with people to impress and shoes to fill, and papers that wouldn't do themselves before tomorrow.

He rubbed his temples and inhaled deeply, taking in the silence of his modern household, breathing in the hot and humid air pulsing from the heater below him. It made his feet hot and he ignored the feeling, tilting his head sideways to glance out of his dining room window.

He was a few stories up but could see the gentle slopes of streetlights below, slowly piling with tiny flakes of snow. They drifted down like blue cutouts of confetti, forming little clumps at the base of his window, frosting the edges like an icy web. As Sasuke made out the building across from him he noticed that the small winter flurry had also brought a light fog, making the pale white sky turn grey under the subtle hue of the rising sun.

He snorted as he saw the small shadow of an airplane weave in and out of the skyward haze, somewhat surprised that anyone would risk a flight in weather so cold and blustery. He could see the trees shaking against the steady draft, almost as if they were shivering from the cold themselves. Sasuke sighed. He preferred the cold.

When it was cold, no one hassled you to be social and active. Everyone wanted to get home from work, and even the rumor of Christmas spirit seemed to make people more accepting. But it was January now, with no more holidays left to lure people away. He was positive his co-workers would have plans the up-coming weekend, and as usual, would probably push him to attend. He had gone to a couple, but he hadn't enjoyed them. It was young people with young minds discussing things he couldn't relate to, and didn't feel obligated to.

For the most part, people viewed him as collective and calculating, the type of person that always watches and never quite gets involved. And Sasuke didn't mind, because for the most part, it was true. There were few people he had met in his life that had genuinely interested him, and too many people that had pushed the wrong buttons. He had learned to simply live his own life, meet his own ends, and wait—wait for something that was worth his time and his ambition.

A small grandfather clock on his fireplace mantle clicked the seconds away, and when Sasuke peered up to it, he realized that only a half hour had passed. Glancing back outside of his window again he stood up, his feet protesting as he walked away from the steady stream of hot air.

He found some socks neatly tucked away in a dresser drawer and slid them on, leaning back against his bed as he did so. He had a nice pair of winter boots just for this occasion nestled in his closet and he pulled them over his feet, twisting the laces around combat pegs that lined the tongue of the thick leather. He slid his denims over them, straightening the seams as he stood up, folding his hands with practice over a jet black polo shirt he had donned for the day. His white undershirt poked out from the bottom and he evened his out, satisfied with the result. He didn't know why he cared about his appearance so much—in all of the times he had gone to Starbucks to relax, he had never spoken to anyone.

He left this bedroom and unhooked a brown and black flannel tie from the coat closet near his door, wrapping it loosely around his neck. He slid a lengthy black cover-coat over his shoulders and buttoned the front. His laptop bag was seated on the shoe stand by his door, and from a basket beside it, he picked up the most recent edition of the local newspaper.

Pulling them both into his hands he locked up his apartment and set off for the coffee shop, somewhat excited despite his normally homebound personality. It was hard for him to focus in his apartment. He considered it a place that he slept, sometimes ate, and for the rest of the time, worked. He had financial layout of his computer that always needed updating, and it wasn't unusual for an employee to call him for walk-throughs concerning clients. It made him wonder how anyone had actually gotten hired at his company, with the little knowledge they seemed to have.

Sasuke stepped out of the front doors of his building, tightening his collar slightly as a chilled gust of wind bit at his cheeks. His bag was tight around his shoulder, and with little effort he slid the tube-like newspaper inside with his computer. The Starbucks was only a block away, and in a moment of resoluteness, he thanked God. He preferred winter for its tranquility, not for its weather.

He turned the corner of a busy street, wondering vaguely why so many people were driving so early on a Tuesday morning, and crossed as the blinking electronic sign allowed him to. He could see the red banner of the shop behind a corner store, and hurried his steps as another bit of wind picked up some loose snow and dusted it his way.

He could feel little clumps of snow beginning to settle in his hair and frowned, hoping it wouldn't tangle. A passing thought recommended that he buy a hat, but a quick and indefinite shake of the head silenced that train of thoughts. He had never been one to wear hats, and no amount of winter wind would change that fact. He glanced up as he spotted the outer veranda of outdoor seating, all empty due to the winter weather. The small overhang did little to shield the snow from sifting downwards onto him, and as he slipped inside the toasty building, he breathed in a sigh of relief as the bits of snow on his coat and bag began to melt.

"How can I help you?" Sasuke glanced up to the front counter as a worker stared at him, obviously cold from working at the register by the door. The girl wore a sour expression and narrow eyes, although her tone was deceptively pleasant.

"Mm. Cafe Latte, Venti." He didn't usually get his drink so large, but a greater part of him concluded that it would be a long while before he would have to brave the weather back to his apartment. The woman nodded to him and made some gestures towards a younger boy who seemed to be the scientist of the situation, hands full of metal shot tins and flavor shots.

He paid in cash and drifted to the side, allowing room for someone else to order. The room was loud and as Sasuke looked around he noted that it was fairly busy—busier than he had ever seen it, at least. Most of the tables were taken, which irked him momentarily, before he glanced over to the back room; the only room with internet connections.

"Café Latte?"

Sasuke turned around quickly and took his drink from the teenager, breathing in the smooth coffee foam that bubbled from the cover-top. He grabbed a straw bfore making his way towards the back room, noting that all of the tables were completely full.

It made no sense to him. Did anyone work anymore?

Two small children avoided colliding with him as he drifted through, ignoring any glances he was receiving. He wondered if his hair looked as matted as it felt, but decided he would contemplate that after finding someplace to settle and unload. As he walked into the backroom, he frowned.

Two of the five tables that offered internet didn't even have computers on them, a fact that made Sasuke feel more outspoken then he naturally was. He stood for a moment and glanced around, the weight of his computer bag beginning to cramp his shoulder. He debated on asking the non-computer users to leave, and even wondered if it would be a short wait until one was free. He bit his lip until a voice from behind him made him turn around.

"You can share my table," It was another man, not much older than himself, crunched in the corner of a two-seater booth. He was too tan for Chicago standards and his hair was a faded blond, obviously tousled from the weather outside. Sasuke opened his mouth to state that he would wait, but the other man glanced up to him, silencing him with ice-blue eyes. "I mean, the wait could be a while."

Sasuke took in a deep breath, glanced around, smelled the steaming latte in his hand and caved. He had handled more than one annoying stranger in his past, and if this one was like any of the others, one cold and decisive glare would send him running. Or at least make him be quiet. Either of the two options worked well for Sasuke.

He set his coffee down and slid off his bag, pushing it to the end of the booth seat and up against the wall. He shrugged off his jacket and scarf, folding them neatly before finally taking a seat himself. He stared down at his coffee, eager to take a sip as his coat no longer warmed him. He pulled the cup up to his lips, closed his eyes, took a sip, opened his eyes, and almost said something inappropriate.

"Can I help you with something?"

The blond-haired blue-eyes man was simply watching him, fixedly, with one side of his lips curled up into a lopsided grin. "No, no. I've just never seen someone get so comfortable at a Starbucks before."

Sasuke glared for a moment before setting his drink down, deciding it was time to look occupied. He pulled out his newspaper and flipped it open, unfolding it in front of him like a printed wall. He flipped to the section on the Wall Street Journal, eager to see what was new in the world of America's not-so fast paced economy. He had shuffled his 401k around a little and was curious to see if it had been a good move on his part, especially because his sole dream in life was to retire early. He heard a sound from across from him that sounded suspiciously like scribbling, and peeled the newspaper to the side to glance at the other man.

"Why are you scribbling?" Sasuke said, more irritated by the sound than the fact. The blond peered up at him and pulled an iPod earbug from his earlobe, raising an eyebrow. "What?"

"I asked," Sasuke glared, "nevermind."

He whipped the newspaper back into place and began to let his eyes drift down the page, searching for any topics of interest. Nothing incredibly eventful had happened, and he didn't feel like reading an article on the Dow Jones. He frowned as the same scratching noises invaded his thoughts, and he lowered the newspaper to his lap, staring with irritation at his table-partner.

The blond was distracted enough by whatever music he was listening to, head bobbing to an unheard beat, and lips moving to lyrics Sasuke couldn't quite place. When Sasuke realized that his glare was having no effect he peered down at the scribbling hand, watching how it moved with fluidity across a pale sketchbook. It was shading a face with extreme highlights and shadows, with thick lines and gradations to assimilate form.

He hadn't realized that he was staring, but when the hand stopped he jerked his attention upward, surprised when the other man removed his earbug yet again and this time, smiled.

"You like it?"

Sasuke didn't answer because the blond went on.

"It's for a CD cover for a local band. A friend of mine is the lead…They're stuff is unreleased. Wanna listen?" The man held out an earbug and Sasuke peered down to it skeptically before shaking his head. The blonde tilted his head in denial before leaning further across the table.

"Come on, listen," He held it close to Sasuke and Sasuke frowned before glaring at the other man. He had never met someone so immune to his cold disposition, and above that, this new person seemed like one that would be hard to shake. His easiest solution would be to agree and listen.

He took the earbug and held it outside of his ear, never planning to put it in. He was a very clean person and the idea didn't suite hi, and as if to compensate, the other man flipped up the volume. A steady stream of music erupted, a nice and shallow beat of alternative rock music, one that Sasuke actually considered he might like. The lead singer's voice was low and rugged, and the song was something about taking chances…

"Good, right? They're gonna go far." The other man sat back into his seat, and Sasuke spoke out.

"Are you a cover artist?" Sasuke knew a little about the music scene, but not enough to feel able to hold up any decent conversation. In fact, it was interesting to him that he was trying to have a conversation at all. This new person seemed nice enough, if not too nice. It made Sasuke curious.

"Ah, no. I mean, for them, yeah. I'm in school for graphic design."

There was a pause and Sasuke snorted. "You're my age."

The blond let out a laugh and twisted his ballpoint pen between his fingers. "Alright, and what do you do for a living?"

Sasuke narrowed his eyes, not sure at what the stranger was getting at. He answered slowly, his expression cool.

"I'm a Financial Advisor."

The blonde twisted forward in his seat, a boyish grin on his face. "Well, not all of us wake up when we're 18 and say, 'I want to do people's taxes'."

Sasuke felt himself folding the newspaper in his lap, even though he wasn't entirely sure why.

"I don't do taxes. I fix loans."

The other man scribbled a couple lines to define a firm set of eyebrows and nodded.

"Mm. Yeah, I don't want to do that either."

There was a moment of silence and the blond spoke again. "My name is Naruto, by the way." He didn't glance up from his pad of paper, and Sasuke frowned.

"Sasuke."

"That sounds foreign." Naruto said, and he peered up in interest. He flipped the page of his notebook beneath him, all while waiting for an answer. Sasuke took a long sip of his coffee, letting the smooth texture gather over his tongue.

"My parents are Japanese," He said simply, glancing out of the window to his right. The snow had picked up and the traffic had slowed.

"How funny. My mom was Japanese—well, a little. She said my name came form this book—"

"It means fish cake," Sasuke said bluntly, and the blond slid back in his seat, pouting.

"Sure, ruin my fun."

"I'm sure the story couldn't have been that great, if it had a character named fish cake."

Naruto glared for a minute before sipping on his own drink and picking at a crumbling blueberry muffin next to his sketch pad. He peered up charmingly and grinned.

"It can't be any worse than someone who hides behind a newspaper to avoid meeting new people at Starbucks."

Sasuke swallowed his coffee quickly and almost smiled out of spite. "I wasn't hiding."

Naruto raised an eyebrow and chuckled. "Uh huh. If you say so,"

The blond took a long drink from his coffee and kept his gaze on Sasuke, making him feel slightly more at ease. He had never spoken to someone so freely before without being irritated, and while Naruto was very talkative, he wasn't pushy. He was just…nice.

"So how much are you going to get paid?" He asked, and he slid the folded up newspaper to his side. Naruto had propped himself up in the seat so that his knees were pulled up to his chest, with just enough room for him to place his sketchbook on his thighs and doodle. Sasuke was somewhat disappointed he couldn't watch.

"Well, I'll sign the contract when they hit it big. Then I can get royalties and all that jazz. I know I should charge now, they say that—"

"Families screw you over the worst," Sasuke finished, and he felt his head grow heavy with thought. It had been a while since he had thought about his parents and today seemed to be the time for retrospective thought.

"Ouch. I take it you've been burned by that flame before," Naruto said. He glanced up from his sketching and looked curious, but not pushing. Sasuke pulled his cup to his lips and drank a little, debating on what he felt liberal enough to talk about.

"Hn."

"I'm sorry," Naruto said.

"There's nothing for you to be sorry about." Sasuke replied, and the blond nodded.

"Maybe not. But it's always nice to know there's someone on your side, right?"

There was a moment of silence before Naruto stopped drawing and leaned forward, his eyes narrowed and skeptical.

"You strike me as the type who needs to get out more," He said firmly, and he grinned when Sasuke glared at him. "I bet people tell you that a lot, right?"

Sasuke was confused, but he nodded. Naruto continued.

"I think that is not the case," he smiled. His blue eyes glistened as the pale white sky met them through the window. He tore a page out of his sketchbook and set it on the table, all before turning to pack his belongings. Sasuke watched as he pulled his coat on, an awful orange thing, and then adjusted a blue hat over his head.

"I think you just need to trust people more," Naruto smiled, and he stood up from the booth. Sasuke glanced down at the picture, picking it up and examining it carefully. It was him, sitting very stylistically at the table, newspaper in one hand and coffee in the other…

…with a severe cow-lick.

He set the picture down and ran a hand through his hair, tugging down the stray layer that had puffed up in the wind. He glared up at Naruto who was turning to leave.

"Why would I want this?" He questioned, frowning. Naruto grinned and cocked his head to the side.

"'Cause one day I'll be famous, of course," the blond let out a chuckle and turned to leave, waving a small goodbye towards Sasuke. He was smirking, and he couldn't help it.

"Read the newspaper, Sasuke," the blond said, and Sasuke glanced at him confused, wondering what he was talking about. He pulled up the picture and examined the miniature scribbles on the newspaper his double was holding, trying to make out the small writing.

'You can start by trusting me…' And there was a phone number.

Sasuke frowned.

He turned to the side to put his things away, ready to head home himself. As he slipped the picture into his bag, he gave it one last glance.

And unknown to him, he couldn't help but smile.


A/N-- D'oh.

::puddle of cuteness ::