Chapter Text
Harry found Eggsy Unwin in a book shop, because that was how Merlin liked to engineer things. Eggsy was using the little pocket money he had to buy a picture book for his little sister, which wasn’t the sort of thing that Harry would have expected after reading the rather slim file that had been put together on Eggsy by the teen division and then left gathering dust for several years. The teen division had evidently not understood Eggsy very well, which was why- according to Merlin, anyway- files were no substitute for something a little more hands on.
When he’d passed Harry the file in question, Merlin had said that this one came from upstairs- way upstairs- and that this young man had had more than his fair share of trouble and that he needed a little more love in his life.
Watching Eggsy buy that picture book, Harry thought yes.
Eggsy’s aura, on the other hand, said no.
When Harry became whatever he was- a cupid, an angel, a celestial matchmaker, the name had never mattered a great deal to him- he had, like all of his colleagues, been given a particular purview. It might have been something to do with the code-name they gave him at the same time- Galahad- but Harry’s charges tended to be people who had been burned, often many times, but who still had a sort of innocence in their hearts and who deserved to be matched as much as anyone, if not more.
So when Harry looked at Eggsy and saw one of the greyest auras he had ever beheld- at least on such a young person, since it often took age and perhaps the loss of someone very special for a mortal to get that jaded- it was something of a shock. It was true that people who weren’t built for that kind of love looked grey to Harry; he could only see romantic potential, so it was those in the branches that maintained platonic and familial relationships who would be able to see everything those people had to offer. They weren’t Harry’s job.
Harry’s job was to find Eggsy someone to fall in love with, and Merlin wouldn’t have assigned him unless that was actually something that Eggsy needed.
Of course, Merlin also probably wouldn’t have assigned Harry if it was going to be easy.
Watching Eggsy walk up to the cash register, Harry quietly ground his teeth. If anyone but Merlin had delivered Eggsy's case to him, Harry would have thought that his personal connection to the Unwin family had gone unnoticed- but it was Merlin, so Harry suspected that it was actually precisely why Merlin had assigned Eggsy to him. Harry had matched Eggsy’s parents, twenty-six years ago now, and it had been some of Harry's best work. To see that Lee’s son had fallen through the proverbial cracks and ended up like this… Harry wasn't exactly filled with general goodwill at the moment.
When Eggsy left the shop, Harry followed him for a time as he usually would a charge. Harry noticed that Eggsy had a wary way of carrying himself that would most likely not lend itself to serendipitous meetings on the street. The thought was off-handed only, since there would be no meetings at all until Eggsy’s aura had at least a little color in it, but it was sufficiently distracting that Harry didn’t at first notice when Eggsy came to an abrupt halt.
Harry actually collided with him, and Eggsy gripped him by the lapels and dragged him into the nearest alley, which was mercifully empty.
To say that Harry was too surprised to react at first would have been a grave understatement. He wasn’t literally invisible, because he did sometimes need to interact with mortals to do his job, he was just unnoticeable. People- the particular charge he had been assigned to most of all- were meant to see him and yet never actually process his presence. Unless he showed up in their houses- which a gentleman would never do, of course- they would ignore him and just get on with their lives.
And yet here Eggsy was, closer than anyone had been to Harry since- well, since he was mortal, and that was long enough ago that Harry could hardly remember it- snarling, “Why are you following me?”
“I’m not,” Harry lied quickly.
Eggsy rolled his eyes. “Look, I ain’t an idiot. I saw you see me in there. I saw you recognize me.”
From the picture in Eggsy’s file, naturally, he had. Harry should have been thinking farther ahead than this, coming up with a better explanation, but he was actually finding it rather difficult to think at all at the moment. He hadn’t been touched by anyone in so long, hadn’t done anything but go from charge to charge, lingering on the edges of the world but never actually a part of it, that he sometimes forgot about his physical body altogether. It was impossible to forget about it, though, with that smaller but undeniably strong form pressed up against him like that. Eggsy was warm, that was mainly what Harry was thinking while he should have been coming up with a cover story. So very warm.
When Harry didn’t produce an explanation, Eggsy continued: “I don’t recognize you- a fact which don't endear you to me, by the way. But wherever you think you know me from you don’t. I don’t do that stuff anymore.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Harry finally managed to say. He had an idea, of course- Eggsy’s less than legal activities were just about the only thing that had been well-documented in the part of the file concerning the last five years of his life. He dealt drugs off and on and when he- or perhaps more accurately his family- had been truly desperate he had had sex for money. It was to be expected that that, at least, be highlighted in his file, since it could affect his love life in a myriad of ways. Still, Harry felt enough genuine confusion about the whole situation that he thought it would carry the lie. Eggsy seemed to believe him at last, which in turn seemed to give him pause. Harry jumped to use the opening. “Anyway,” he suggested, “maybe I thought I recognized you and then realized that I was mistaken.”
Eggsy did consider that for a moment, at least. He shook his head. “Not buying it.”
Harry let his shoulders slump a little in Eggsy’s grip, searching for a better answer. Eventually he had to settle on the only one he could think of. “Your name is Unwin, right?” he said.
“Yeah.” Eggsy looked even more suspicious. “Who the fuck are you?”
“My name is…” Harry hadn’t given his name to anyone but a new colleague in years, and even then it was only ever his code-name, and that made him hesitate, strangely overwhelmed. “Harry Hart.” He gave himself another moment before he took the plunge. “I knew your father a long time ago and I thought I recognized you.” It was the truth, for the most part. Harry was proud of that.
Better yet, it worked. Eggsy continued to look skeptical, but he loosened his grip and backed off, letting Harry go. Harry missed his heat immediately, then scolded himself roundly for it. “And now you just happen to be walking my way?” Eggsy asked.
“Precisely.”
“You don’t exactly belong out here, bruv.”
Harry glanced around and was forced to agree. He contained a sigh, though just barely. Part of being unnoticeable was that he didn’t have to worry about looking out of place in his fancy suit- and since he was unlikely to be robbed or otherwise harassed he didn’t generally think too much about where he was. But Eggsy was right; they were not in a part of the city where someone who looked like Harry generally spent his time.
Harry searched for an excuse and eventually found one. “I’ve been away for a while,” he said. If ‘away’ could be understood to mean, ‘not strictly alive’, this too was true. “But there’s a place I used to eat at not from here.” Technically it was so long ago that Harry could hardly remember it, but the streets did seem familiar. “I wanted to see if it was still open.”
Eggsy relaxed even further, but said, “Show me.”
Harry prayed that his memory of the place in question would lead him correctly, and happily it did. The pub looked very different than it had the last time Harry had been there- the paint on the sign was chipping away, a sharp drop in clientele was suggested by how empty it was, and it had undoubtedly changed ownership a few times- but at least it was still there. Harry gave Eggsy what he hoped was a vindicated look. “There you are,” Harry said. “So.” For a moment both of them just stood, awkwardly, by the door. “Have lunch with me?”
“You’re a fucking weirdo,” Eggsy said, but he went inside. Harry followed him.
The food was inexpensive, but Harry still offered to pay. Eggsy looked uncomfortable- clearly torn between knowing that Harry really should pay and not wanting to owe him. Harry couldn’t very well remind Eggsy that he had spent almost all the money he had in the bookshop just now without making Eggsy think that Harry was following him again, so he tried a different tack: “It’s because of me you’re even here, isn’t it?”
Eggsy rolled his eyes at that, but he still looked suspicious. “I don’t owe you nothing if you do,” he said.
“Of course not.”
Something about the way Harry sounded legitimately offended seemed to thaw Eggsy further, and he let Harry pay for the food.
They sat down at a table by the window, and Harry glanced out, searching for something to end the rather oppressive silence. “Good weather we’ve been having,” he said at last. He had lost his knack for talking about inconsequential things a long time ago, but Eggsy snorted and there was something about the very awkwardness of the remark that made him drop his guard even further, so Harry couldn’t consider the remark a complete failure.
“Look,” Eggsy said, humor in his voice now, “who are you?”
“I told you,” Harry said. “My name is Harry. I… work in a tailor’s shop. Your father was… he was a customer many years ago and I thought perhaps I recognized you. You resemble him, you know.”
Eggsy nodded like he’d been told that before. “When did my dad have to go to a tailors?” he asked.
“For his wedding,” Harry answered. It was a bit of a stretch of the truth, but since Harry was the reason he had met Michelle and come to get married in the first place it was close enough. “To your mother.”
“You know he’s dead, right?” Eggsy said.
“I’m sorry for it.” Harry meant it. His job was the romantic happily ever after. The fact that he had no power over what came after that had always troubled him. “He struck me as a good man.”
Eggsy’s smile changed his face, made him look so much younger.
Harry kept quiet for a moment, turning his attention to his meal. The sight of Harry poking at the greasy, paper-wrapped fish in his nice suit seemed to amuse Eggsy, and his smile widened. Harry- well, Harry could eat but he didn’t need to, and thus rarely did. It had been such a long time since he’d simply had lunch with someone- and perhaps longer still since anyone had smiled at him like that, even if it was just because they thought him silly. Harry decided he might as well to press the advantage. “I really wasn’t following you.”
“Liar,” Eggsy said, but Harry could still hear traces of humor in his voice.
“I assure you I have no nefarious intentions.”
Eggsy actually laughed at that one, shaking his head to himself, and then he applied himself to his lunch. They both finished eating in silence.
When Eggsy rose Harry did the same, saying, “May I see you home?”
“Yeah, no,” Eggsy said.
Harry knew better than to not accept the answer, so he just nodded and said “Goodbye, then.” Eggsy rolled his eyes again and turned away, heading for the door. Harry sat back down so Eggsy could leave without feeling pursued. Once he was outside, Eggsy half turned, looked back at Harry through the window, gave a little snort and then went on his way again. A moment later he was gone, probably under the impression that he would never see Harry again.
* * *
“You realize that this changes everything, Merlin,” Harry said.
“I suppose it does,” Merlin agreed, with nowhere near the amount of concern Harry thought was warranted in his voice.
The fact that Harry couldn’t follow Eggsy for the next few weeks (or months or perhaps even years that were sometimes required in situations like this) without being noticed meant that none of Harry’s usual methods would work this time. He would have to cultivate a relationship with Eggsy somehow, become his friend and find out why he was so closed off by actually talking with him, and then steer him into the path of the right person- once he found them- the old-fashioned way. It was probably the most daunting job Harry had ever come across. “Is this even supposed to happen?” he demanded, leaning closer to Merlin across his desk.
They were in Merlin’s office, back at their headquarters. The place that Harry and his colleagues referred to as HQ was based behind a tailor’s shop- the one where Harry had told Eggsy he worked. In reality, it was just a place he passed through on the way to his real work- though he did buy all his suits from there.
They had a kind of symbiotic relationship with the Kingsman tailors that Harry rarely examined too closely. The shop was a cover when a cover was needed, and sometimes those who worked there did the little things that unnoticeable people were less good at- like renting out living spaces or buying cars. In turn, cupids like Harry were some of their best customers; Harry himself had even been a regular of the shop back when it was first founded and he was still mortal. And no, the significance of the fact that he could remember his tailor but not the last person who had touched him did not escape Harry. It was something he tried not to think too much about.
Something else he didn't think much about was how it all worked. He didn’t know why the men and women who worked in the shop were able to interact with his kind the way all other mortals couldn’t, and he didn’t think too much about where the money they paid them with came from either- or the money he used for anything, come to that. It certainly behaved like real money, but he had no idea what it did to the larger economy whenever it went into circulation. Like a lot of the rules of Harry's current existence, it seemed to just... be.
In the back of the shop there was an elevator that could take Harry and his colleagues more than underground- it took them to one of the worlds beyond the world of living, the one that straddled the line between it and the next. It was where people like Harry stayed until they were retired and moved on at last.
“Supposed to happen,” Merlin repeated, breaking Harry out of that train of thought, “no, it isn’t. But it isn’t unprecedented either.”
“This has happened before? To who?”
“No one you would know,” Merlin told him, a little imperiously. “But it has happened before and it doesn’t make your job impossible. Eggsy Unwin is going to fall in love, Galahad. I can guarantee it.” He held Harry’s eyes for a moment. “You do you trust me, don’t you?” he asked.
“Yes,” Harry said reluctantly. “But you’re going to have to trust me. If I say I need something done by one of the other branches, you get it done, none of the usual mind games.”
Harry could only see romantic auras, only effect romantic potential, but there were different branches that controlled every kind of relationship. Not just the different kinds of love- but also hate and jealousy and fear and dislike and even the minute connections that formed between people who never even properly met at all. Sometimes, in order to do his job, Harry needed someone to give one of those other dynamics a nudge the way he could only to do with romantic attachments. In a life like Eggsy’s, that sort of thing was never easy but it was almost always necessary.
“Fair enough,” Merlin agreed. “Just fill out these forms and take them to the Archive.”
The forms were in triplicate, but it was still too easy. There was something else going on, Harry knew it. He felt, though, that he had pushed his luck on the subject of Eggsy enough for the time being. He decided to fill out the forms and bide his time.
* * *
Because he had- obviously- not been expecting to meet Eggsy, Harry had done nothing to build a background for himself that would make it conceivable for them to meet by accident a second time. Harry was clearly from a different class, he lived in a different part of town- Harry had a home outside headquarters for when he needed it, though he spent almost no time in it- and he therefore operated in completely different circles. He and Eggsy were two people who had absolutely nothing in common and Harry was supposed to make it seem like it was somehow perfectly natural for them to just run into each other again one day soon.
It was a feat that Harry thought would be difficult for anyone- even someone with a lot more social experience than Harry himself happened to have. If his first meeting with Eggsy had taught Harry anything, it was that he had forgotten how to really talk to people.
So he tried to think of himself as someone else- someone he was trying to bring into Eggsy’s circle as a potential match. How would he steer them together under those circumstances?
It was a foolish idea but a useful intellectual exercise, and it was how he came up with the idea for the first little tweak Merlin negotiated on his behalf.
Through a raffle that no one in Eggsy's family was ultimately willing to admit to not signing up for they ended up winning a substantial gift card to the kind of shop they normally couldn’t afford to patronize but which none of them were willing to let go to waste. Harry didn’t bother too much about the details- he didn’t do much shopping himself, after all- but he had it on good authority that it would look perfectly reasonable for him to “happen” upon them there.
Technically, Harry ran into Eggsy’s little sister first- or, rather, Daisy ran into him, plowing into his legs face first and nearly falling over backwards as she did so. Harry caught and righted her. “Are you all right, little one?” he asked, crouching down in front of her.
“Not little,” she protested, tossing her head.
“Is that right?” Harry murmured. He didn’t have to look up from her little face to know that Eggsy was getting closer. He might not have been able to see its color, but Eggsy’s grey aura certainly shone a little brighter as he zeroed in on his tiny sister’s location.
“Sorry,” Eggsy said quickly, scooping her up. “She got away from me there.” There was something defensive in Eggsy’s voice, as if he was entirely expecting to be accused of poor childcare in addition to being not the usual clientele of the store. When Harry looked up at him there was a proud yet rattled set to his chin that hardened but then fell away altogether when Eggsy looked back down at him. “It’s you,” he said, blinking.
Still crouching on the floor, Harry said, “I’m not stalking you,” which probably didn’t help his case all that much.
To be fair, Harry wasn’t thinking very clearly. For all he had prepared for it, a part of Harry still hadn’t expected Eggsy to have remembered him. That was another part of being unnoticeable; even if a person had a conversation with Harry, he didn’t stick in their minds. He hadn’t had anyone but one of his coworkers remember his face or his name in... well, in as long as he’d been what he was.
“Sure,” Eggsy snorted. He looked vaguely amused though; Harry supposed that was something. He eyed his sister seriously and said, “What’ve I told you about talking to strangers, Daisy girl?”
“Not a stranger if you know him,” Daisy pointed out astutely.
Harry rose, saying, “She has you there.”
“No, thank you, she don’t, since we ain’t exactly been properly introduced.”
“Oh,” came out of Harry’s mouth. It was a half a question, half an uncertain statement to fill the sudden silence. He wasn’t sure what Eggsy was saying, what he actually expected.
Eggsy shifted his grip on Daisy and reached out a hand. “I’m Eggsy Unwin.”
That was when Harry realized that Eggsy had technically never told him his name. He hesitated only for a second before gripping the offered hand. “Harry Hart.”
“Me too,” Daisy said, and looked satisfied when she got to wrap her small hand around his forefinger. “Daisy.”
“Hello, Daisy,” Harry said.
Another silence followed the introductions.
“We just have to-” Eggsy said, gesturing vaguely in the opposite direction. Harry nodded and let them go.
It was genuinely a coincidence when Harry arrived at the cash register at about the same time that Eggsy and Daisy did. “You first,” Harry said automatically. The presence of someone behind them in line, even if that someone didn’t stick in her mind very well, made the cashier work faster and not hassle Eggsy at all, and he looked grateful for it.
Still, Harry was surprised to find the two of them waiting outside the store. Eggsy put Daisy down, but since she still trailed close behind him it didn’t exactly give them much more privacy. Eggsy said, “What are your intentions?”
“Pardon?”
“Last time we met you said you had no nefarious intentions. So.” Eggsy cleared his throat. “I was just wondering what your intentions were.”
And this was exactly the opportunity Harry had been waiting for, a chance to build something with his charge that would allow him to be a little more active in his life. “I like you,” Harry said. He had discovered- rather abruptly, under the circumstances- that it was true.
Eggsy snorted. “You barely know me.”
“I suppose so,” Harry said. “And you, I think, don’t particularly like me. I was hoping both of those things might change. But, of course, it’s out of my hands.”
“Because you ain’t stalking me?”
“Exactly so.”
“Okay,” Eggsy said, ducking his head. His lips curved upward and he looked… more pleased than Harry would have expected. Still, the banter- such as it was- came easier than he would have expected, and if it made Eggsy smile that would have to do for the time being.
Still, when Harry asked, “May I see you home?” again he fully expected to receive the same response as last time.
“Why the hell not,” Eggsy said instead.
* * *
Which, in a roundabout way, was how Harry ended up negotiating with Merlin for his second tweak in Eggsy’s life- if, by tweak, one can also mean an enormous titanic change which despite Merlin’s promise that Harry wouldn’t have to fight him on these things Harry did actually end up having to fight for tooth and nail.
It happened like this:
When they arrived at Eggsy’s flat- the images in the file on Eggsy didn’t really do the miserable place justice- it was peaceful. There was no shouting or crying from within, but for Harry there didn’t have to be. Eggsy’s mother poked her head out and smiled widely, beckoning her son inside and paying very little mind to Harry. Michelle Unwin- as she had been the last time Harry saw her, on the day of her wedding- was much altered. The makeup was thick on her face, but it was her sad, choked aura that really caught Harry’s attention. It had been so lovely once, and Harry could see remnants of that long ago love match, broken by a death and what had come after- because she was in a relationship now, too, and it had left parts of her aura all black and withered and wrong. There were patterns to auras that someone who understood them could read like a book, and Harry could see that Michelle’s current marriage was a bad one indeed.
Eggsy’s expression as he caught Harry looking at his mother was complicated- defensive and slightly angry, a little sad and a lot ashamed. He probably thought Harry was taking in just her poorly concealed black eye rather than the entire history of her marriage- fine at first, full of the financial stability she had so desperately needed to raise a young son, and fun enough for her to forget her grief over Eggsy’s father from time to time, followed by rough patches that only got rougher, always resulting in showers of gifts and good humor that promised a never ending string of new starts, and all the while her aura was wilting, wilting, and getting sicker all the time. Harry made himself look away, focusing briefly on the top of Daisy’s blonde head, a beacon of cheerful grey light.
Later, Harry would tell Merlin that Eggsy’s mother was the one who had needed a cupid, that it would have saved Eggsy all the grief he currently suffered if she had never married Dean Anthony Baker in the first place. Later, Merlin would remind Harry that he of all people should know that Michelle had had her big love and that her first husband’s death and all that came after had placed her out of their division’s purview. He would also remind Harry that if they could ask Eggsy he would probably willingly go through it all again if it meant keeping Daisy in his life.
That, Harry wouldn’t be able to argue with.
In the moment, Harry conjured a smile. “I’ll be on my way,” he said to Eggsy. “Good evening.” He gave a final smile to Daisy and moved away from the door. He thought, as he slipped away, that he caught Eggsy’s shoulders slumping out of the corner of his eye.
It made him want to stay, made him want to never leave Eggsy alone ever again, but that simply wasn’t feasible.
He had work to do.
* * *
“I need you to get rid of the stepfather,” Harry informed Merlin when he arrived back at HQ. “Full custody of the child for the mother with minimal fuss, alimony, and he leaves the city- if not the country- and never comes back.”
“That’s a tall order, Harry,” Merlin said slowly.
“Yes. And completely necessary. Eggsy is young, he’s kind, he’s reasonably optimistic given his circumstances. He’s just in the right age bracket to be thinking seriously about love, if not permanence, but he is completely grey. He’s grey because he can’t think about anything but protecting his family and staying alive. Not to mention that his mother’s history has probably destroyed what faith in romance he might have ever actually had. So. Since you insist that he will fall in love, and soon, I must do something drastic. I cannot heal those scars by dropping some nice girl in his path. I’m not sure I can heal them at all, but I can’t even start unless you help me get him away from that man.”
Harry didn’t need to talk to Eggsy about it to know that he would never leave his mother and sister with Dean, so Harry needed the stepfather to be gone. Immediately and for good.
“Will you get that done that for me?” he asked.
Merlin sighed deeply. “Yes, Harry.”
* * *
Over the next few weeks London became a very inhospitable place for Dean Baker. Harry didn’t know or understand what strings Merlin pulled, but everything Harry had requested was put in motion, one thing after another.
Harry didn’t try to find Eggsy during that time; he thought it best that Eggsy have the chance to sort through the changes in his life without Harry looming over his shoulder.
So it was truly a coincidence when Eggsy walked into the same coffee shop where Harry was having his morning tea. Well- it wasn’t a complete coincidence, because Harry had developed a taste for eating and drinking again because of that first meeting between them, and because Harry had also taken to frequenting places closer to where Eggsy lived just to develop a presence in the area for when he would need it later, and because Eggsy only had the pocket money to indulge in a coffee now and then because Dean wasn’t drinking up everything the family had anymore. It was close enough, though, that Eggsy saw real surprise on Harry’s face.
“Hey.” Eggsy approached Harry’s table with exaggerated casualness, his hands deep in his pockets. Still, Harry thought he must have imagined it, that Eggsy deflated a little when he realized that Harry couldn’t possibly have planned the two of them running into each other like this. “I ain’t seen you in a while.”
“Which might be odder if I had been stalking you,” Harry pointed out. “Which- I’ll remind you- I was not.”
The reference to their last meeting warmed Eggsy a little- he snorted out a laugh, at least- but he still looked unsure of himself. Harry pushed the seat across from him out with his foot, giving Eggsy an enquiring look. Eggsy slouched immediately into the chair. He crossed his arms over his chest, evidently still embarrassed- which, on Eggsy, tended to look resentful.
“How are you?” Harry asked instead of remarking on it.
“Okay,” Eggsy said.
“And Daisy?”
That warmed Eggsy a little bit more. He unfolded, sat up straighter, even smiled as he talked about her making a few new friends at the park in their new neighborhood. Apparently, Merlin had added in an additional financial windfall for the family without any bullying from Harry. Harry smiled at the thought.
Eggsy’s aura still looked entirely grey, but he seemed a great deal easier in himself even if he did still act a little suspicious of Harry. It was odd, how Eggsy would seek him out, as if he wanted Harry’s attention but felt threatened by it at the same time. Eggsy was going to have to get comfortable enough with Harry to let him into his love life a little- when he had one, that was- and the only way Harry knew of to make him so was by being patient, non-threatening, and present for as long as it took. He would find a way to do that. He would.
“I’m glad she’s doing well,” Harry said, meaning it whole-heartedly, and Eggsy seemed to get more relaxed still.
A woman from behind the counter arrived then with Eggsy’s coffee. Her aura was the grey just tinged with pink that Harry usually associated with someone who had gotten over a bad breakup and was only just beginning to think she could get close to someone again- and right under Harry’s eyes she gave Eggsy a very speculative look.
“Let me know if you need anything else,” she told him with enthusiasm.
Eggsy cleared his throat the moment she was gone, faint color lighting his cheeks, and his eyes flicked to Harry several times with uncertainty lighting them.
Perhaps Eggsy wanted to talk to her a bit more. The place was empty, and she certainly seemed as though she might enjoy a little flirtation with a good looking young man. She wouldn’t register Harry enough to be embarrassed to do so in front of him- but Eggsy very well might be. Serendipitously, Harry was also finished with his tea and it was about the time of day he usually checked on one of his other- much simpler- charges, a woman a little older than Eggsy- called Amelia- who had just become engaged to the woman of her dreams.
Briefly, Harry considered giving the passing interest a little nudge, encouraging it to blossom, but changed his mind. If she and Eggsy were a good match it would reveal itself in time, Harry was sure of that much. Best not to rush things so early.
“I’m terribly sorry,” Harry said. “But I have to be going.” He reached out and touched Eggsy’s shoulder. He flinched slightly, instinctually, and Harry didn’t withdraw, just let his hand rest there lightly until Eggsy relaxed underneath it.
Eggsy must have read Harry’s reaction to his reaction on his face, because he immediately said, “He’s gone,” and then flushed as it occurred to him that Harry might not have any idea what he was talking about.
Harry smiled and gently rubbed Eggsy’s arm. “I’m glad.”
He let his hand slide lightly down Eggsy’s forearm toward his elbow, and was startled when Eggsy gripped his hand, threading their fingers together, and said, “It wouldn’t be so bad, yeah?”
“What?” Harry asked, blinking.
“If… if you was stalking me.”
Harry blinked, surprised. Eggsy was such a nice boy once you got past the chip on his shoulder. It was difficult to believe that he could be as bad at making friends as Harry was. “But it would be rather less like stalking,” Harry pointed out slowly. “If I had permission.” Eggsy’s eyes flickered away from his, focusing on the grain of the table as though it had suddenly become fascinating to him. “But… perhaps if I said that I’d like to see more of you…”
“I’d like that too,” Eggsy agreed, almost too quickly.
Harry squeezed his hand. “As would I.”
Eggsy drew his hand away, sharply enough that Harry supposed it had finally occurred to Eggsy how the two of them looked. The girl who worked here- she was hovering now behind the counter- was unlikely to think anything of it, but Eggsy didn’t know that. Harry cleared his throat and gave him some space, tossing his umbrella from hand to hand and backing off.
“Here,” Eggsy said, quickly again, rushing through the word like he was afraid he’d never get it out otherwise. He held a napkin in his hand, a phone number hastily scribbled across it with a pen Harry hadn’t even known Eggsy had.
“Thank you,” Harry said, mouth dry. He hesitated, then reached out and took the napkin. Their fingers brushed as he did so and Harry kept from shuddering by sheer force of will alone. Eggsy, on the other hand, did react. His hand trembled slightly and something in his eyes went soft.
Harry took his time reaching for Eggsy, and when he touched Eggsy’s shoulder that time there was no flinch. Something Harry couldn't identify felt like it was squirming inside the cage of his ribs. He took a breath to calm it and managed to say, “Good day.” He squeezed Eggsy’s shoulder once more and then released him, making his way to the door.
There he paused and glanced behind him. The girl behind the counter- Tilde, her nametag read- was still watching Eggsy with a thoughtful gleam in her eye, and Eggsy…
Harry thought that just maybe he saw a tiny touch of pink in his aura too.
* * *
In the following weeks, Harry kept his promise to see more of Eggsy as much because he had discovered that he genuinely liked being around him as because he needed to in order to do his job. Eggsy became a regular fixture in Harry’s life- first with just a walk here and a coffee or tea there, maybe once or twice a week, and then more and more often, until Harry saw or spoke to Eggsy at least every other day.
Harry had been alive for more than a century, so he looked at time differently than mortals did- but even so he was amazed when he discovered that several months had passed almost without his even realizing it.
It occurred to Harry while he was in the Archive, waiting with a dozen or so other cupids to file some paperwork with the front desk.
The Archive was run by a man- well, an angel, technically- called Valentine, and though Arthur, the head of Harry’s branch, might have been his immediate boss Valentine was the final authority. Harry or Merlin or any of their colleagues could check files in and out, but they were always returned to the Archive. In the bookcases that spiraled upward into infinity above the circular room containing the front desk were the files of every human being, alive, dead or as yet unborn. Some were slender like Eggsy’s had been when Harry first received it. Others were hundreds of pages long, thick with annotations. Others still were closed, belonging to those who had not been matched and never would be. Only Valentine knew the location and contents of every single file.
Harry did not envy him his job.
As Harry waited, he looked up at those bookcases and wondered, for the first time, about his own file. It had always been up there, somewhere, but it had never before occurred to Harry to think about what it contained. He could remember so little about his life as a man. It had never really seemed to matter before.
For a moment, though, he did wonder- and for some reason that made him think of Eggsy.
Without thinking about it, Harry paged through his contacts list and called him. As Harry sat there and listened to it ring, a fellow cupid- looking very smart in his black suit- gave Harry an odd look. No one made phone calls in the Archive, because no one had anyone to call- and because cupids normally just faded out of existence until they were called to the front desk, no one really got bored. Harry couldn’t explain it to himself, but the idea of drifting like that, of becoming even less real than he had already was, had begun- of late- to fill him with unease.
Harry realized that he had felt that way since he met Eggsy. He realized, too, how long ago that had been. He had spent half that time with other charges and got twice as much done- and yet, between all the time he was spending with Eggsy and his work with his other charges, the weeks had passed so quickly.
When all of that occurred to him, Harry panicked briefly and hoped Eggsy wouldn’t answer, but after the third ring he did.
“Hey, Harry,” Eggsy said. “What’s up?”
Harry had yet to figure out what to do with that phrase. He let out a long breath, gut turning over. Eggsy’s voice made everything that had seemed so calamitous a moment ago not so bad after all, but Harry had an idea that that wasn’t a good thing. However much Harry told himself that Eggsy’s aura was still more grey than red, that it wouldn’t do to rush with someone like him, he knew he still should have made more progress by now and he couldn’t lose sight of that fact. He couldn’t let himself stagnate. “I’m waiting in line to file some paperwork,” he said.
“Tailors do a lot of paperwork?”
“You might be surprised,” Harry said.
“Not hard to imagine that,” Eggsy replied, tone relatively light. “Don’t know nothing about being a tailor, me.” He was silent for a moment. “So you- uh- just called to call?”
“I suppose,” Harry said, so surprised to realize that- though he had never done so before- it came very easily that it didn’t for a moment occur to him to lie. “I was thinking of you, so I called. But I would like to see you later. If you were… amenable.”
“Yeah, ‘course,” Eggsy said. His voice seemed somehow strangled, and when he spoke again he rushed through it in that way he often did: “You did promise you’d take me through the National Gallery.”
“I did, didn’t I?” Harry agreed quietly.
Given how different they were, Harry would have expected more difficulty in finding things that they both enjoyed, but actually it had all gone very smoothly. Since it was ostensibly the source of their original acquaintance, Harry had at first talked a bit more about Eggsy’s father, but though he seemed naturally curious on the subject it had struck Harry that Eggsy wanted to put that topic behind them for good. Harry had been more than willing to accommodate him, especially when he discovered how very easy Eggsy could be talk to and spend time with.
Eggsy always seemed fascinated by Harry’s- much edited- stories and his- often personal- knowledge of history, and Harry was likewise interested in Eggsy’s fresh, endlessly surprising perspective. Harry had always had a taste for the finer things, and unlike many of his colleagues he had refused to let himself get out of touch with pop culture, but he hadn’t realized how much joy had gone out of it all for him until he had Eggsy to share it with. Harry’s supernaturally limitless pocketbook was more than happy to indulge both of them in that regard once Eggsy had started to let him- expanding their outings to trips to museums or the occasional play or film Eggsy expressed an interest in.
He had learned so much about Eggsy in that time. That he had a love of learning which had been dimmed by his somewhat haphazard education, but which flared to life with just a little tending. That he would rather see an old musical than a superhero movie any day of the week. That he could find joy in the smallest, strangest things- like being caught in the rain without an umbrella, not that with Harry he ever was, or laughing his way through giving impenetrable directions to tourists.
Unfortunately, one thing that Harry hadn’t learned about Eggsy was how his taste in romantic partners might run, and since that was the whole point of the exercise Harry couldn’t help being angry with himself when he realized how much time had passed so fruitlessly.
Eggsy’s voice cut into Harry’s frustrated train of thought. “This afternoon, maybe?”
“I would like that,” Harry said, and however else Harry might have been feeling at the moment, it was completely true. From the front desk, Valentine hailed him. “I have to go, Eggsy. But how does… two o’clock sound?”
“Yeah. I’ll be at home.”
“All right,” Harry agreed, starting to smile even though Eggsy couldn’t see him. “Goodbye.”
“Bye.”
Harry pocketed his phone and made his way to Valentine’s enormous desk. Valentine wasn’t alone, though he rarely was; Gazelle was seated on his desk, her back resting against a rather precarious looking stack of files, polishing one of her prosthetic limbs. Her eyes narrowed when she saw Harry. “Galahad,” she said. “You’ve been making a lot of work for me lately.” Gazelle had a certain twist to her mouth that made her always look annoyed and amused at once, so it was difficult for Harry to tell how inconvenienced she really felt.
Gazelle was essentially a messenger. It was her job to ferry requests between the different branches, so everything Harry had pushed Merlin into requesting over the last few weeks had gone through her, which was a lot of work indeed. Still, everyone knew that she and Valentine adored each other and were tiptoeing around a courtship, so really Harry saw it as doing them both a favor. Accordingly, he flashed her guileless smile.
She rolled her eyes, but Harry caught a gleam of humor in them.
“Anything major for me today, Big G?” Valentine asked.
“Not really,” Harry replied. “Beyond the minor flirtation with a woman in a café that I already logged, nothing. He’s had a great many changes in his life-” Harry inclined his head to Gazelle- “and it will take some time for them to settle.” Harry felt like he was making excuses for his own benefit as much as theirs, because really he should have made more progress by now.
He had no more idea of what kind of person Eggsy might be interested in meeting, in loving, than when he had first been given Eggsy’s file, which outlined a few back alley fumbles with people he hardly knew, other sexual encounters that were even less romantic, and no indication of Eggsy having a type whatsoever. And Harry knew that even if by some miracle he stumbled on someone perfect it wouldn’t be easy to steer potential subjects Eggsy’s way- while clearly visible to Eggsy- without making him uncomfortable. Harry suspected that this was exactly why his kind were invisible to mortals in the first place.
Valentine nodded and noted ‘nothing in particular’ down without questioning what most people would probably consider overzealous filing on Harry’s part. It made sense in his own mind, but he hesitated to explain it to anyone else; he wasn’t sure he would be able to. He knew it was no one in particular’s fault that their “system” had failed Eggsy, but the more Harry got to know him, the more he wanted to blame someone. Eggsy could be sullen and prickly, but he was also sweet, selfless, and blessed with an optimism that few people who had had only half the bad luck he had would have been able to maintain. When he first met Eggsy, Harry had been troubled by his aura and slim file on principle- partially because Eggsy’s parents had been his own match, but more because no one deserved to slip through the cracks. Now that Harry knew Eggsy better, he found it positively infuriating- so if he overcompensated slightly by putting every little thing that happened or didn’t happen in his file, Harry thought it was more than justified.
Then again, perhaps Valentine did understand. He definitely seemed to when he said, “You’re doing right by him. That boy.”
“I certainly hope so,” Harry said.
Gazelle shot him a knowing look from beneath the fringe of her bangs, but Harry had no idea what, precisely, she thought she knew. Harry kept his curiosity to himself, however. It was best, he had learned, not to try to fathom Gazelle. “Thank you,” he said to Valentine, and smiled.
“Any time.” Valentine smiled back broadly. “And good luck.”
As he made his way out of the Archive, Harry thought he heard Gazelle mutter, “You need it,” and Valentine shush her and laugh softly, but he ignored them, checking his watch absently. He had an hour and a half before he was meant to meet Eggsy, and while he could technically just appear there with no need to worry about lateness, and though he had certainly returned Eggsy to his new flat enough times to make the journey in his sleep, Harry had something he wanted to do first.
* * *
And so two o’clock found Harry waiting in front of the flat Eggsy and his mother lived in. He had picked up a few yellow roses on the way, and when Eggsy stepped out and saw him his eyes widened and he looked like he was struggling to keep back a laugh. “Hi, Harry,” he said, cheeks coloring slightly.
“I couldn’t decide if this was-” Harry hesitated, searching for the word Eggsy often used- “weird.” He waved the flowers uncertainly.
Eggsy did laugh then. He ducked his head as if to hide it. “It’s a bit strange,” he said. “Ain’t ever gotten flowers before, have I?”
Harry felt another directionless wave of irritation at anyone and everyone who had ever made Eggsy feel less than lovely. Harry considered telling Eggsy that he could still take his underappreciated gift elsewhere, but he decided against it. One day, perhaps, Eggsy would be able to take such a joke as it was meant. They still weren't there yet. “Well, you have now,” Harry said instead. “Might brighten the place up.”
Eggsy took the flowers. “Uh. Thank you. Let me just-”
Harry waited while Eggsy went back inside to put the flowers in water and tried to focus on the good things. Although the problems that Harry was having with Eggsy as a charge were so obvious they could probably be put in textbooks, Harry sometimes doubted that he could even have made as little progress as he had without forming a personal relationship with Eggsy.
It had taken a campaign of quiet, gentle touches- a squeeze on his shoulder, a fingertip brushing over the back of his hand, a palm resting on the small of his back to steer him somewhere- for Eggsy to relax into casual physical displays of affection.
The first time that Eggsy had leaned into Harry’s hand on his arm it was like watching a whole new world open up.
And the first time- while they were sitting side by side in a darkened theater- that Eggsy had rested his head on Harry’s shoulder without encouragement, there was a moment where Harry felt like said world stopped turning altogether.
It did him good. Harry knew it did, knew that Eggsy’s aura had more color in it every day- but he also knew that he had himself grown too accustomed to touching Eggsy already. That after going so long without touching anyone at all he anticipated that contact far too much and would hunger after it terribly once Eggsy had fallen in love and Harry had eased his way out of Eggsy’s life for good, but for now he could enjoy it and know he was helping Eggsy in the process.
Because it was helping. When Eggsy came back out and the door clicked shut behind him he was smiling, easy in himself in a way that Harry would never have imagined when they first met.
In fact, as Harry took him in, he realized that Eggsy’s aura had finally turned a pure, clean red- a complete turnaround that Harry had sometimes despaired of ever seeing in him. Eggsy was finally ready to let someone in.
“Hi,” Eggsy said, like he’d never seen Harry before. He sounded a little breathless and he was looking at Harry with wide eyes and an open expression that Harry nevertheless couldn't seem to read.
“Hi,” Harry said in return, because in a way he was seeing Eggsy for the first time- seeing the Eggsy he should have seen from the first, someone for whom the world held more possibility of hope and joy than fear and suffering.
They could finally begin, Harry thought, with a pang he couldn’t quite explain to himself. This was, after all, exactly what he had been working for. He buried the feeling, determined to enjoy this afternoon and then get to work as soon as possible. He crooked his elbow. Eggsy smiled and took his arm without hesitation.
Harry told himself that this was as it should be, and that the hard part was over.