[Backstory, Part 1] Pancakes (Flynn/Quinn, Caitlin, Marilyn)

[myeyesarehollow.livejournal.com]

Malachy O'Reilly was staring at the world's most perfect pancakes. They were so close to him, only separated by a three feet and a window, and they were absolutely covered in a mountain of vanilla ice cream and the freshest berries you could possibly have found. A little puddle of maple syrup rested in a glass bowl on the side of it all, just begging to be poured all over the top of everything else. The concoction looked so perfect, Mal had nearly cried the moment it had arrived at the man's table.

He was supposed to be busking in the hopes that he could raise enough money to at least get something to eat, not that it would be pancakes. Instead, he was leaning up against the Dublin cafe he was playing outside of, doing his best. The frigid air made for stiff, uncooperative fingers and clumsy playing. Which didn't usually mean much of a monetary reward anyway, as much as people yelling at him to 'shut the fuck up'. And now there were distracting pancakes made of perfect. Mal's stomach felt like it was stuck to his backbone. He hadn't eaten much of anything in days, and he couldn't stop staring at the platter in front of him, mouth watering, and stomach performing some sort of weird acrobatics at the thought of eating the things himself.

The owner of said pancakes, a man in a snazzy business suit who clearly had enough money to fill the world with pancakes, was not impressed that some 16-year-old street kid was staring at him while he tried to eat his breakfast. He wrapped his arm around the plate protectively and glared, as if he thought Mal was going to jump through the window and take his food away. Mal didn't especially blame him, because he rather wanted to. And if they were his pancakes and anyone looked at them like he was, he probably would have bitten them... Mal understood, but he couldn't help it.

The pancake man finally leaned back and he made a rude gesture in Mal's direction, trying to 'encourage' him to look the other way. Mal bit his lip and his shoulders slumped and he turned away helplessly. After all, it wasn't the man's fault that Mal was hungry. Mal leaned down to put his guitar away because he was getting nowhere, and he squatted down, leaning against the building, hood pulled up and arms wrapped around himself tightly.

Just when he was in the middle of an internal monologue about how humankind was terrible and clearly no one cared about anyone anymore because a man in a slick business suit would make rude hand gestures at a poor kid in trouble instead of helping- that was when Mal heard someone approaching him. He looked up to see a beautiful redheaded woman standing above him, smiling pleasantly. Mal looked around, attempting to see who she was smiling at, but there was no one else. He was used to being invisible...

"I saw you staring." She informed him with a wink.

So she was smiling at him. And now talking. Talking required effort, but Mal gave it his best. He really hadn't meant to be a bother to anyone. He never did. He wanted pretty red head to know that. "Yeah. I didn't mean to bother anyone." Mal mumbled. "I was just-"

"Hungry?" The woman finished for him.

"Didn't know it was a crime." Mal said defensively, tightening his arms around his stomach and not looking up at her anymore. In fact, he now tried to look in any direction that wasn't currently hers. Which probably made him look a little manic...

"It's a shame is what it is." The woman said easily. Then she reached out a hand to him. "Come on. I'll get you some pancakes. Just like the ones you wanted."

Mal's face went from grumpy and hurt and mad at the world, to politely confused in less than 3 seconds. "Wha?" He said, but one could hardly expect him to be articulate at a time like this.

"Do you want the pancakes?" The woman asked, her hand still outstretched.

"I...yeah. You...you don't have to-" But Mal was already extending his hand so she could help him up.

"Shut up!" The woman said, grabbing his hand and pulling him up easily. "My name is Caitlin. Caitlin O'Connor. I'm a photographer."

"Oh?" Mal asked, because he sucked at small talk, especially when all he wanted was the damn pancakes. The overpowering smell of food was like a kick in the stomach as they walked into the cafe, and Mal swallowed roughly. "Hey..uhm...Caitlin? Can...I call you Caitlin?"

"Of course." Caitlin said sweetly. "Come sit with my friend and I." She led him over to the table, and sat him down next to an attractive blond woman. "Marilyn, this is...I'm sorry, what was your name."

"Oh...Mal. Malachy."

"Hello, Malachy." Marilyn arched one eyebrow. Take off a layer of dirt and the ratty clothes, and Malachy was a looker. A rather young looker, but no harm in looking, right?

"Okay." Mal responded. "Caitlin? I have a...there's someone. Someone else. I mean..." Mal cursed himself, but he couldn't just sit here and enjoy the perfect pancakes alone.

He had an Ardal to think about. Ardal Quinn. His boyfriend. And the only person he had left in the world. When Mal's parents had thrown him out of their house, Ardal had run from his, just to be with him. He'd given up everything and now he was getting weaker by the day. Mal couldn't just sit here and enjoy breakfast while Ardal suffered. "I have someone else. Who uhm...I shouldn't just...eat. Without him."

Caitlin patted Mal's shoulder. "Just wait here. I'll fix it up." And she wandered away, leaving Mal with Marilyn.

Marilyn smiled at him and she leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. "How old are you, Malachy?"

"Eighteen." Mal lied. "Uhm...why?"

"Just wondering." Marilyn said easily. "You have beautiful eyes, Malachy.

Malachy's cheeks turned bright red. He was used to people going out of their way to pretend he didn't exist. He certainly was not used to incredibly attractive women hitting on him. He was dirty and he probably didn't smell so fantastic. He was wearing layers of rags. And she was complimenting his eyes. Mal sort of smiled at her, though the expression was one of complete confusion. "Thanks."

"They're amazing." Marilyn continued. "My husband has such boring eyes. I wish his were like yours."

"Heh."

Thankfully, Caitlin arrived a few moments later. Marilyn was still singing Mal's praises, but he'd managed to tune her out. Proudly, Caitlin handed Mal a rather large Styrofoam take out container. "I'd hurry, that'll melt."

Mal looked up at her, as he sat there and took the container into his hands. "Thank you." He said, and then he managed to give her a genuine smile, however brief. He could smell the pancakes then. He was going to have no trouble hurrying...

"You're welcome, Mal." Caitlin handed the boy some plastic utensils and she watched as he beat a hasty retreat from the cafe.

It only took Mal five minutes to reach the little building he and Ardal were staying in. It was awkward going, carrying the pancakes and the guitar, but he made it, calling Ardal's name as he burst through the door.

Ardal was curled in a corner, hiding from the cold underneath a mostly ineffectual blanket. But he looked up when Mal called his name, and he crawled out from under it, hope in his eyes. Mal sounded excited. Maybe that meant there was something to eat. Ardal's stomach was aching and he dearly hoped so. "What is it?" He asked, voice cracking with sleep.

"I got something!" Mal dumped his guitar on the ground and he fell to the floor beside Ardal. "Look!" He opened the container, and there inside, was the perfect pile of pancakes, smothered in runny ice cream and berries. There was even a little container of syrup.

"How did you get it!?" Ardal asked, nearly in awe at what had been set before him.

"Some nice lady! She had a creepy friend." Mal explained, handing Ardal a fork. "She kept talking about my eyes. I sort of thought she might ask for them in exchange for the pancakes."

Ardal smiled at Mal then. A rare expression on his face these days, and one only reserved for his Mal. "I hope you wouldn't have given them to her." Ardal watched in fascination as Mal opened up the syrup and poured it all over the mountain of toppings.

"Are you kidding?! Look at these things. I would have given her my right nut!" Mal insisted, licking the sticky syrup from his fingers with a little sigh of pleasure.

"Charming." Ardal said with a snort.

"Always. Eat!" He didn't want to eat until Ardal ate, and goddammit, he wanted some. He wanted some five minutes ago.

"Yes sir." Ardal dug in, taking a big bite and then he closed his eyes as he chewed. "Mmmmm. It's cold."

"Don't give a shit." Mal mumbled as he started himself. And then the two boys were silent as they worked their way through the impressive pile of pancakes. Mal, who was faster at most things than Ardal...except maybe talking...made sure that there was plenty for Ardal instead of gobbling it all down. It turned out there was enough meal there for both boys to have their fill in the end. Pancakes were good that way, expanding in the stomach to make you feel like you'd eaten even more than you had.

When they were gone, Ardal turned to Mal and he smiled again. "Thanks. For sharing them with me."

Mal shrugged, leaning over to kiss Ardal's cheek with ice cream cold lips. "Always. You know...I was trying to play and it was too cold. I was outside the cafe, looking in. And a man was eating them. The pancakes. God...they looked so good, and I was sort of staring and he flipped me off."

"That was bold of him." Ardal sneered.

"Yeah. And I was thinking about how people suck. You know. In general. And then that lady offered to buy them for me. For no reason. I think...when we get out of this, I want to be someone who does that. Helps for no reason. Just because sometimes people need help."

Ardal leaned against Mal then, wrapping the blanket around his shoulders too. "That's a lovely sentiment, Mal. But we should probably try to get out of this first."

Ardal sounded dejected, and who could blame him? Mal hated hearing Ardal like that, but had other choice did he have? "We will." Mal said firmly, because he believed it. "We'll find a way." Mal ran his fingers through Ardal's hair, kissing him before wrapping his arms around him. "And I'll take care of you until then."

And Ardal wished he had half of Mal's resolve.