Tuffs of Fluff 1/?

Based on a FB post that read: "the guy in the taco bell drive thru just accidentally said "have a nice day I love you" and I thoughtlessly responded "love you too" and we just sort of stared at each other for a second before I drove away."

Drive Thru I Love You

Chris sighed scrubbing a hand over his face. At nearly one o'clock in the morning he was slowly making his way through the city back to his college dorm and found himself assaulted by a sudden craving for food. Any food would do but he wanted it fast so he could eat then go crash into a deep sleep for as long as he wanted. Well until ten o'clock when he had to drag his ass out of bed for class.

The paper he'd just finished had been long and grueling but he was so glad to have it finished. Thirty pages of meticulous research, critical reflection and thoughtful propositions of possible solutions and furthering of exploration. He'd spent all term on it and hadn't slept for the last almost forty-eight hours, but it was finally complete and he was totally ready to crash. That is, after he found some food because, damn, he hadn't realized how hungry he was. He'd spent the afternoon and all evening (and most of the night to be truthful) preening it to perfection and was finally happy with how it turned out. Okay, that was a lie, but he was fed up with it and what he was turning in was all his professor was gonna get. He'd slaved away enough of his soul for this paper. He was so done with it. Done like God when he booted Lucifer out of heaven, so done with this shit, wow he needed some food and shut eye.

Fast food was the answer. Yeppers, food and fast. Two of his favorite concepts right at the moment. Now which fast food was the question? Oh, there's one. Works.

He pulled into the lot, expertly maneuvering his car to the drive thru lane (read only hitting the curb once, where the hell did that come from, goddamn he was tired, and holy crap he did not care, he just wanted food damnit), and stopped before the large glowing menu, simply staring at it. He stared for quiet a long time, or perhaps a short time, he's so tired he can't actually be sure and what the hell was even written on the goddamned thing? It took him a moment but he noticed finally that the fast food worker was blandly repeating, "Hello, what can I get you?" at him.

"Uh," Chris said. "One moment please." It probably took more than a moment before his thirty-page-term-paper-addled brain could accurately decipher the practically alien looking symbols scattered across the frankly too bright board. He finally settled on a burger and fries taking painstaking care to articulate accurately his choice to the worker. To be honest he actually didn't see where burger and fries were listed on the menu, having given up trying to focus on the hieroglyphics after what felt like three years of getting nowhere, but made the surprisingly lucid educated guess that, as a fast food joint, they would have some sort of burger and fries. Right about now he didn't care what kind of food he got, just that he actually had food he didn't need to prepare himself. If his mother was here she would probably be strangling him which wasn't such a bad thought once he realized he would most likely pass out from her strangling and thus be able to sleep.

"Sir? Sir? Hello?"

"What?" Chris said, as the tinny sounding female voice once again pierced the fog in his brain. He idly wondered how many times she had repeated herself then decided thinking about it was too taxing.

"I said, what would you like to drink with your burger and fries, sir?" Judging by the miffed sound of her voice she had repeated herself a lot.

"Oh, um, I'll take a," Chris paused trying, and failing, to locate the available beverages. "Just a coffee," he said finally. God did he need one if he was going to drive back to campus without dying, running someone over, or somehow ending up in another state.

"So a burger, fries, and a coffee. Any dipping sauce, sir?"

Jesus the woman was thorough. Did fast food workers normally ask this many questions? This was taking far longer than it normally did.

"Uh. What?"

"Dipping sauce. You know, ketchup, barbeque sauce, ranch—"

Good lord, she was screwing with his brain. How was he supposed to think with her yammering in his ear. "Shut up will you," he snapped and was the tiniest bit surprised the lady listened. "Uh. Just honey mustard," he said after a long moment of awkward silence in which he tediously gathered a precarious amount of lucid brain thought. Thank the high heavens this fast food joint was so close to his campus. He really shouldn't be operating heavy machinery right about now. To be truthful he probably shouldn't even be operating a pencil sharpener.

"Pull around to the window, please." And boy, was she irked sounding now.

Chris sighed and carefully pulled around, making sure to put every available thought into making sure the car went where it was supposed to go. So much so he actually almost pulled past the window and ended up slamming on the breaks which wasn't too much of a problem since he'd only been going about two miles per hour anyway.

The window was pushed open and a young woman, auburn hair pulled into a high pony-tail, didn't spare him a glance as she smacked her gum and reported his total. She finally turned to look at him, with an exasperatedly miffed expression, as he sat unresponsive. "Hey, you gonna pay or what?" she said.

Chris blinked. Pay. Right, for his food. He had to pay for that. Where the hell was his wallet and why hadn't he thought of this before? "Yeah, uh, just. Have to find my wallet," he muttered beginning to dig through his pockets. The auburn haired girl rolled her eyes and sighed, beginning to drum her hands against the counter.

He finally located his wallet, which had been sitting innocently on his console where it had been maliciously mocking him by blending in. He snatched it up and opened it before pausing. "I'm sorry. What was the total again?"

The girl frowned. "Four eighty-five," she said. "You all right? Seem a little…well off."

Chris laughed and began to count out his money. "Been a long day. Was at the library," he said, a tad frustrated when he realized he'd lost count and needed to start over. He gave up and pulled out a twenty deciding he'd rather break a larger bill for practically no purpose than mutilate his poor brain by trying to count beyond fifty cents. How many coins go into eighty-five cents anyway? Who cared? "Just finished a term paper," he added a small part of his brain reminding him to elaborate a bit more.

"Oh," the girl said, sounding infinitely friendlier now that he'd handed her money. Or maybe it was his brain tricking him. "You go to the uni?" she asked motioning down the street toward campus.

"Yep," Chris said. Several jumbled thoughts were bouncing in his mind. Urging him to expand a bit. Ask her name. Jesus, just anything beyond the simple 'yep' but the majority of his mind seemed to have booked a flight and left on vacation already and he was frankly too exhausted to give a damn.

"Cool, me too," the girl replied. "I'm a Poli Sci major. My big paper was two days ago. Was up a straight forty-eight hours so I bet I know exactly how you feel right now. Still quite exhausted. Here's your change."

Chris accepted the change silently, still processing a bit on how he should be replying. Before he could the girl had handed him his bag of food, which smelled amazingly wonderful. A fact that just reinforced how starved and tired he was because he was practically worshiping a bag of fast food and that was just not normal for him at all.

"And here's your soda. I mean coffee," the girl said, shaking her head at her slip up as she handed him the cup. "That's definitely coffee. Something we both need apparently."

Chris nodded, setting his bag of heavenly food aside after cramming a fry in his mouth, and took the cup from her. He downed a big swallow, ignoring how the hot liquid scalded his tongue and throat, and immediately felt the effects of the caffeine. Which was probably just a placebo effect at this stage, or a hallucination, or was it delusion? Whatever.

"Well, you have a nice night," the girl said grinning and poking at the screen before her. "Hope you sleep well, I love you."

Chris nodded, taking another drink. "Thanks, love you too."

The girl froze and Chris blinked frowning as what she had said, and what he'd thoughtlessly replied, finally registered in his frazzled mind. In fact, he thought for a second it might have been him having a strange type of auditory hallucination. He sat the drink down quickly, glanced at the girl who was staring in a sort of confused, embarrassed shock at him which no doubt mirrored his own expression (totally ruling out the hallucination theory), then drove away.

He took a moment to check his mirror, watching as the girl shut the window and shook her head, then grabbed his coffee once more taking a long deep gulp and chalked the whole incident up to sleep deprivation. Because, holy shit, was he not thinking straight.

It was four days later, Monday, when Chris had finally caught up on his sleep therefore allowing him a much higher level of functioning, when he ran into the girl again.

He'd shared the incident with both his roommate and his brother (both of whom had found it highly amusing), and, although he had doubts that the whole thing hadn't been anything more than a wacky dream, he hadn't given it much thought at all beyond that point. It was actually kind of a fuzzy memory to be honest, as he'd literally come right home stuffed his face faster than star-nosed mole then face planted in his pillow not to stir until the last minute possible to rush to class.

So it was with mild surprise and a moment of 'don't I know you from somewhere' that he met the girl again in a hallway he normally didn't travel when she walked right into him as he rounded the corner.

"Oh, sorry," she said taking a quick step backwards and readjusting her grip on her books. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and blinked as she took in his face with a thoughtful look. "Well, if it isn't the Love You Too Boy," she said eventually with a grin.

Chris smiled, all the pieces clicking together on why she looked so familiar. "Oh, hey, the I Love You Girl. Poli Sci major, right?" he said grinning. It was actually quite miraculous that he recognized her at all. Having been very nearly dead on his feet last time he saw her, seeing her now brought a whole new respect for her appearance. Silky auburn hair, exquisite features, and an alluring hint of attitude.

She laughed and nodded. "Yes. Surprised you remember that. Listen, I'm sorry about the whole love thing. I was just really, you know it just felt like I—"

Chris shook his head, making a dismissive gesture with his hand. "Don't worry about it. Not like I was offended or anything; though most girls do offer me a couple dinners before dropping the L-bomb," he said with a grin.

The girl looked stunned for a moment, then raised an eyebrow gaining a coy air about her. "Oh is that a hint?" she asked, tilting her head slightly to the side and adopting an air of deliberate obtuseness.

Chris felt an energy stir about him and for a moment he wondered if he knew this girl, if in some past life and distant time ago he and she had done all this before. A sense of adoration and commitment peppered with love and a hint of competition. He smiled then muffled it a bit to match her apparent disinterest, shrugging ambiguously as he sighed out his response, "Could be taken that way, I suppose."

"You suppose? Well I suppose I may ignore it," she replied.

Chris sighed and shook his head in mock disappointment. "Then I guess you'll just miss out on this really awesome sushi place I know down on Fifteenth Street."

"Only your loss," the girl said. "I have a distaste for sushi."

"Well in that case I'm always happy to adapt," Chris said.

"I don't date guys I just met," she said, switching tactics and still wearing that adorably challenging grin. Like she was testing him. Well, Chris was up for the challenge.

"Why not? I assure you I'm just your average guy."

"Or maybe you're lying. People do that you know."

"You're very good," Chris said. "You caught me. I admit it. I'm a serial killer with particular interest in fast food workers who say I love you at first sight."

"In that case I should warn you I'm very capable of defending myself against the likes of you," she replied.

"Maybe I should be the one worried about you," he said.

"You should. 'Cause if you try anything I'll cut out your tongue and you won't be able to tell anyone it was me," she said with a grin that sent a thrill running through him.

"Well I'll just write it down then," he responded.

"I'll cut off your hands," she shot back.

Chris grinned noting the appraising light that had entered her eyes. "Then people will be asking 'why you runnin' around with no hands'," he said. The girl raked her gaze over him once more before giving a slight nod and smile of approval. Like he'd passed a test.

"Dinner. Seven o'clock. Thursday night. Pick me up outside Warde Hall. Don't be late. And no seafood," she said briskly like they were setting up an assassination contract rather than a date. Business like. Sharp and to the point.

"Oh I won't be," Chris said grinning.

"Well then, I hope the evening will go pleasurably," she said coolly straightening her books in her arms and holding out a hand for him to shake.

"Well, we've already crossed one of the biggest relationship hurdles," Chris said taking her warm hand in his. He could feel the strength behind the grip and smiled softly, keeping his own grip firm before releasing her hand. Here was a girl who could and would challenge him. And the glint in her eyes told him she was thinking the same about him. "What could possibly go wrong?"

The girl laughed, moving past him in the hallway and taking a few steps away. "You never know. Remember, seven o'clock…"

"Thursday night, Warde hall," Chris recited dutifully tapping his index finger to his temple. "I'm Chris, by the way."

The girl smiled, still taking steps backwards down the hall. "Bianca," she said. "I'll see you Thursday. No forgetting now. Be there." And with that she turned around, hair splaying around her in a wave of terracotta, sent a small wave over her shoulder and disappeared down the hall.

Chris smiled to himself and shook his head. There was something special about this girl. He could feel it, deep inside himself, buried in his heart and soul. Wyatt had said something as well, concluding a deep speech about his good intuition when it came to girls with the comment that Chris and the I Love You Girl would have quiet the how-I-met-your-mother story.

"Oh, I'll be there."

Just a short thing I had sitting around for...a bit. finally finished it. Hope you enjoyed. Peace out people :)

Oh and there was homage in there to one of my other all time favorite shows…I'm sure some of you will find it.

...Update for The Other Side coming. Truly...it is.