Lee was a little taken aback when Rupert offered his arm to her. But that didn’t stop Lee from taking his arm. It was odd, in a way, but at the same time, this was sort of like seeing the good guy that Lee had always known was there under the surface, but that had always been hiding under the hate and bigotry.

The walk wasn’t all that long, but it was hot. And...weird. Lee knew that this wasn’t the same Rupert she was used to talking to, not with the conversation being this casual and easy going. It was nice but really very strange.

”Yeah, that building has always been there,” Lee replied, with a slight shake of her head. But it did show just how strange this must be for him, too. ”It actually used to have one of my favourite coffee shops in it, but it was gone when I moved back to the city.”

It didn’t take long from that point to reach the shop she was talking about. Though it was rather surprising when Rupert held the door open for her. She was used to that kind of thing from first Tarin, and now Blaine, but she certainly was not used to this man holding doors for her. Or offering his arm to her for that matter.

”Thank you, Mr. Kelley,” she said with a smile as she walked inside and made her way to the line.

Lee was good company. He didn't know if she knew what to make of him any more than he knew what to make of her, but she seemed to be getting as much entertainment from humoring him as he was getting from being humored.

Red fire hydrants. Next she was going to tell him that Central Park had a zoo in it.

>> ”Thank you, Mr. Kelley,”

"You're welcome, Ms… Lee." He didn't actually know her last name, did he? Nope.

They stood in line. It was enough of one to prove that the place had a customer base that went out of its way to come here, but short enough that it wasn't mainstream. Something smelled a little off in the general coffee aroma of the place, but frankly the whole city smelled a little off, so he wouldn't hold it against them. Now, what to order?

That was a sucker question. There was only one thing a man could order, the first time in a new shop.

"Small coffee. Black."

No sugar or cream to hide the flavor, no fancy injection brewing. The ultimate test for any coffee shop: the unadorned cup.

He paid for both of them, then took a seat at the front of the shop, where he could people watch out the windows. It was the little things—what colors were in fashion this season, how many people still wore crocs, the way the construction guys were setting up cones on that street instead of that one. Even the potholes were wrong, here.

Not wrong. He shouldn't think about it like that. They were just different.

All right. The chairs were cozy, the company was good, the day was sunny and the shop was blasting its AC. Time to try some decent coffee. Rupert took a sip, and froze.

He looked around at the other customers: smiling faces, when they weren't totally wrapped up in staring at their cell phones (that much was the same, at least.)

He looked at Lee. He tried not to be creepy about it, but he wanted to see how she reacted to her first sip. Because it was starting to occur to him, a fear he hadn't wanted to face. A lot of things were different here, right?

This coffee. This coffee Lee had recommended. This coffee was terrible. It was even worse than the cup he'd had the night he'd gotten stuck, worse to such a degree that there was almost an art to it.

There was a certain dawning horror that he couldn't quite keep off his face, as his tastebuds and the coffee of this world started coming to that trite conclusion that no one in a committed relationship wants to hear:

It's not you, it's me.

As Rupert replied, Lee realized that while she had told him her name, she had only given her first name, not her last. ”Lee Smith,” she said simply as they got into line in the shop. The line wasn’t that bad, not too long. Not like it would have been in the morning rush hours.

At least one thing was the same Lee realized as she heard Rupert order his coffee. Both men took their coffees black. That was the proper way to drink one’s coffee. ”Large black half-caf, please,” Lee ordered. Then followed Rupert to the table he found once they got their drinks. A table with a clear view of the street that Rupert was doing a good job of watching.

He had been until he took a sip of his coffee. Lee froze as she sipped her own. ”I know the decaf kind of sucks,” Lee said, the frown still on her face. ”But I didn’t think the regular stuff here was that bad. You don’t like it?”

One time, Rupert had suggested a restaurant to some friends. They'd all gone out and ordered, and the food had come, and… nobody had said anything, they'd all just sort of politely picked at things.

Turns out the restaurant had been bought by new owners.

For weeks—nay, years—those friends had ragged on him for suggesting the place. And every time he'd laughed with them, and curled up and died a little on the inside, because there's a certain kind of shame that comes with loving a thing only to find out that someone else hates it.

Lee had a frown on her face, and she was already backpedaling her recommendation. She knew the answer before she asked:

>> "You don’t like it?”

And like those friends of his who'd picked at their meals politely, he felt obligated to lie.

"It's, ah," he took another sip and it was like something died in his cup, and its soul had gone screaming down his esophagus. "It's… different. I'm not sure I'm qualified to comment on the subtle flavors your universe prefers. There's clearly an intentfulness to the arrangement. It tastes like it took hundreds of years of master brewers, each building on the technique of the others, to, to—"

He couldn't take it anymore. He took another sip, contemplated it deeply, and burst out laughing.

"—to make something this bad. My god. This is actually so bad I can't stop drinking it. How did they do this? Do we have different beans, or different roasting techniques? Do our grinders turn sunwise, and yours go windershins? I legitimately have no idea how someone could do this to coffee."

He was actually starting to like it, now. It tasted like it hated itself as much as he hated drinking it. Small sips were the key: he didn't want to overwhelm his mouth, he wanted to savor every last nuance of awful.

"Wait, did you say the decaf is worse? Mind if I take a sip of that?"


When life gives you lemons, something something. When life gives you terrible coffee, become morbidly curious at just how bad it can get.

"So what do you do for a living, anyway? You probably know I'm a cop. Not on disability, as you might have gathered."

He lied. Lee watched him, the frown disappearing as an eyebrow raised. He was lying to not make her feel bad about her coffee suggestion. As Rupert went on, and on, a small smile formed on her face.

Then he started laughing and actually admitted that he didn’t like the coffee. Vehemently admitted it. Lee laughed as well. ”Honestly, I don’t know. I guess it’s possible that there’s something that different between our two worlds. Or, maybe the coffee in your world is just that bad, but you got used to it over the years, and now can’t even tell good coffee when you taste it,” Lee finished, teasing the man a bit. Which in itself was strange, Lee couldn’t remember ever teasing Rupert like this before.

But he wanted to try her coffee, to see if the decaf she had was even worse than he thought his coffee was. ”Yes, I said the decaf is worse,” Lee confirmed, sliding her cup across the table toward him. ”I hate drinking it, but I can’t just completely give up coffee when I’m pregnant, so…” Lee’s sentence trailed off as she gave a small shrug. Then she waited for Rupert’s reaction to her half decaf. In a way, she hoped that he liked it better, but at the same time, gross.

”What do I do for a living?” Lee repeated the question, fingers tapping on the table in front of her as she waited for the return of her cup. ”Mother, obviously. I also work at Haven, and help run a bar a couple nights a week.”

>>> "…Or, maybe the coffee in your world is just that bad, but you got used to it over the years, and now can’t even tell good coffee when you taste it,"

"Oh, shots fired," Rupert laughed, leaning back in his chair. Relaxing. He wasn't sure he'd done that since coming here, not really. "How do you know you're not on the ignorant side of the coffee divide?"

She slid over the decaf. With all due ceremony, he raised it to his lips, and sipped. He kept up a perfectly blank face as he slid it back—not a poker face, but a coffee face.

"So I was thinking in my head that mine tasted a little like something died, and its soul came screaming out. That," he pointed to her cup, "tastes like whatever died was soulless."

In other words: yeah, it was worse. Like if someone had taken an ugly painting, and made a forgery.

"Obviously," he conceded to her comment on mothering, with a smile. For the rest of it: he thought, but was wise enough not to say, that a cute pregnant woman behind a bar counter was probably the best way to get sympathy tips ever. As for Haven… she said it like it was one of those things everybody should know. Which meant it was something that probably didn't exist back home. "What's Haven?"

And he laughed at her teasing. Lee smiled wider, it had been too long since she had been able to tease and joke around like this. Kevin could take it, but he wasn’t able to dish it back. Not just yet.

Rupert, on the other hand, could. Lee grinned across the table as he asked his question. ”Well, even if I am, I like the coffee, and this is the coffee we have in this world, so I’d say I still win.”

He took a sip of her half decaf coffee, his face blank, and Lee sat quietly, waiting to hear, or see, his reaction. Then he described what his coffee, and subsequently her coffee, tasted like to him, and Lee wrinkled her nose. ”That does sound gross,” she said, taking her cup back and just staring at it for a few moments before taking another sip herself. It didn’t taste any different than it normally did to her. Not the greatest because of the decaf mixed in with it, but it certainly did not taste anywhere as bad as what Rupert was saying.

”Haven?” Lee asked, questioning that he hadn’t heard about it before. Then she realized that maybe he really hadn’t, maybe there was no Haven in that other world. It did make sense if mutants were viewed as badly as she had been told they were, it made sense that there wouldn’t be an organization like Haven around. ”Haven works to promote equality, as well as educating and supporting disadvantaged humans and mutants. Though, I just work in the accounting department.”

>> ”Well, even if I am, I like the coffee, and this is the coffee we have in this world, so I’d say I still win.”

"Oof," Rupert replied, cluching his stomach like he'd been gut-punched. "This is like the Plato's Cave of coffee. I'm trying to tell you there's better stuff out there, but you're happy with your soulless shadows of real coffee."

Maybe he was being a little dramatic about the whole coffee thing. Maybe. But he'd been a coffee snob over on the other side, and now he had a whole new universe to snob in.

>> ”Haven works to promote equality, as well as educating and supporting disadvantaged humans and mutants. Though, I just work in the accounting department.”

He sat back with a blink. "Oh, wow. That sounds amazing. Yeah, we… don't usually get organizations like that back home. Not legal ones, anyway. There's underground stuff, but for a cop, that was more about knowing when to look the other way. Didn't really feel like it was changing things. Do you know if they need any volunteers, canvassers or outreach or anything? I figure I should start getting involved in things."

It was either that, or sit alone in the other guy's apartment, trying to think up new names for the poodle.

”Better stuff out there, but there’s no way for me to try it, or for you to actually show me that it’s better?” Lee asked. Then she shrugged, giving Rupert a small smile. ”Well, at least until you can prove otherwise to me, I’m going to believe that this is good coffee.”

When Rupert finally spoke after she told him what Haven did, it was her turn to sit back with a blink. He was surprised and happy, and wanted to volunteer and help out. Sure, the Rupert she had known over the last ten years did help mutants on occasion, but he never went out of the way to help them.

”You,” Lee said, almost stammering a bit in surprise. ”You want to help a pro=mutant group? You actually want to volunteer?”

Lee shook her head a moment later before looking back at Rupert. ”I know you’re not the same man I knew, but it’s just surprising to hear that. A nice surprise, don’t get me wrong, but it is a surprise. I’m sure something could be found for you to do, though. If nothing else, the Sanctuary is always needing volunteers.”

They were going to have to agree to disagree about her world's sub-par coffee. Rupert took another sip of his cup. It was getting a little cold now, which added a whole new level of lukewarm awful into the mix. At this point, it was like eating some foreign food a friend got him as a souvenir: he was just taking on good faith that he wasn't drinking caffeine-flavored chemicals mixed with rat poison.

Lee went into shock at the mere idea of him helping out. It was actually a little alarming to watch. Was it a cultural thing? Did people over here not… just ask to volunteer? Maybe it was a recommendation system, or they had laws against unpaid labor, or… or you could only ask on Tuesdays. How would he know?

Or was the idea of someone named 'Rupert Kelley' wanting to help really capable of reducing a charming and eloquent woman to stammering?

The latter, apparently.

>> ”I know you’re not the same man I knew, but it’s just surprising to hear that. A nice surprise, don’t get me wrong, but it is a surprise."

His lips twitched. A surprise, huh? "Yeah. I kind of gathered."

Good to hear the stammering fading. He'd only broken her brain temporarily, not permanently. And this was one of the other Rupert's friends. Man, it was going to be hilarious running into the people who really didn't like the guy.

"I really am interested, though. Back on the other side… I'm guessing you've probably heard some things, but it wasn't good for mutants. And that's the thing about it: it's not just about mutants, right? Because the x-gene seems to be getting more common, and even the most die-hard card-carrying mutant hater could end up with a mutant son, or nice, or granddaughter. It's not humans or mutants, it's the future of our whole society. But here we've got politicians putting laws in place that basically lock you into a lower quality of life, and it doesn't even make any sense. If they want to stop mutant crime, the worst thing they can do is make it harder for mutants to find good jobs, to feel accepted by their community. That's how you drive people to commit crimes, and we are not equipped to deal with mutant crimes, not without getting more mutants on the force. But we can't, because they can barely make it past HR's screening, and some of the best candidates aren't even applying because they grew up thinking the police were the bad guys. And don't even get me started on those places that experiment on people, please tell me you don't have any of those here. I mean, we don't have any of them officially, but I've heard one too many rumors saying exactly the same thing, if you know what I mean. American citizens disappearing off the street? Once we start letting that happen to one group, who's next?"

He took in a breath. Let it out. Gave a little self-conscious sideways smile. "Sorry. I can kind of get on a rant, if you let me get started. Usually someone at work would have thrown something at me by now. But yeah, I'd love to volunteer. I'm trying to build up my social network from scratch, over here. This 'Haven' sounds like exactly the sort of people I should hang out with."

As he ranted, Lee realized something about this Rupert Kelley: he saw the whole picture and how mutant rights really affected everyone. But, though he wasn’t the man she had known for the last ten years, this was still Rupert Kelley, and that was proved by his rant. Sure, it wasn’t as...loud and vocal as most that she had heard, but it was just as passionate. And just as absent of pauses to interject.

Then he actually apologized for going on the rant, and Lee couldn’t help the smile. ”Don’t worry about it,” she told him. ”I’ve heard much worse rants before, and you didn’t even really raise your voice at all. Plus, I happen to agree with you.

“But yes, I can help get you set up volunteering at the Sanctuary if you wanted,” Lee continued. ”They always need people to help out. And I could check out whether Haven has any volunteer needs, see what you can do there.”

Lee had that look on her face. It was a look he new from co-workers, friends, family: the little patient smile of there he goes again.

If he'd had any doubt before, that would have sealed the deal: Lee Smith was well familiar with Ruperts.

Apparently hers had been louder, though. And did he catch the subtle implication that she hadn't agreed with all of the other guy's rants?

>> “But yes, I can help get you set up volunteering at the Sanctuary if you wanted. They always need people to help out. And I could check out whether Haven has any volunteer needs, see what you can do there.”

He smiled another one of those unguarded smiles. "That would be great. Thank you—I mean it. You show up at my door, and the first thing I do is yell at you, but then you help me talk through all this weirdness, and now you're helping me get on my feet here. I hope the other Rup knew what he had in you. You're a pretty amazing woman, Ms. Smith." He flashed a grin. "Even if you do have terrible taste in coffee."

”Honestly, I got yelled at half the time I showed up at that door,” Lee said lightly. ”And half the time that he showed up at mine. So that’s really not very surprising to me. But I’m glad I can help. Moving to a new city with practically nothing is hard enough. I can’t even imagine what it’d be like to be stuck in a new world.”

When Rupert went on to compliment her, Lee just smiled as she took a sip of her coffee, though his finishing barb resulted in a bit of a glare. ”You might think I’ve got terrible taste in coffee, but you’re the one who’s going to have to deal with it. Unless you’d rather switch to drinking hot chocolate.”

Ah, the ol' smile-then-glare as she caught his little barb. Score one for the other universe.

"If hot chocolate is the worst this place has to throw at me, I think I'll survive."

It was the kind of thing a person shouldn't say out loud. This universe or the other, a wise man didn't dare reality to do its worst. But that was a problem for another day.

Right now, right here, this Rupert could relax a little. The coffee was terrible, but the company was good. And hey, at least he didn't owe her child support.