TheSoupGoose

You tilted your head playfully. “Now that’s an unbeatable combo.”

The inside was just as warm—dim lights, scuffed wooden floors, the smell of cinnamon and roasted beans in the air. They claimed a corner booth, tucked near a window where dust swirled in sunbeams. Yancy sat across from you with two mugs and a plate of scones he insisted were “life-changing.”

They talked for a long while. About simple things—parole check-ins, awkward community service stories, favorite coffee flavors, weird dreams. But your eyes kept catching on the ease in Yancy’s movements. He looked lighter. As if he’d let go of a weight he never realized he was carrying.

“You’ve changed,” you said softly, wrapping your hands around the mug. “In a good way. I’m proud of you.”

His cheeks turned red, and he tried to cover it with a dramatic scoff. “Proud of me? Nah. I’m still the same ol’ Yancy. Just with... less crime.”

You chuckled. “Well, you wear civilian life pretty well.”

There was a brief pause. A flicker of mischief lit in your eyes.

“You know,” you said casually, “when we first met, I had a bit of a thing for you.”

Yancy nearly choked on his coffee. “Wait—what?”

You laughed. “Relax. It was brief. You had that whole bad boy thing going on. Prison tats. Charisma. A surprisingly good singing voice. It was a dangerous combo.”

“I—You’re serious?”

You shrugged, sipping your coffee with a grin. “What can I say? You made an impression.”

Yancy blinked at you, stunned into silence for a moment before he leaned back, smiling wide. “Well, damn.”

They both laughed with something unspoken—an acknowledgment of how far they’d come. From chaotic prison breaks and collapsing walls to shared pastries and overdue confessions.

Outside, the world kept spinning. But inside that booth, there was peace. No ticking crystal. No countdown. Just the memory of almosts, and the comfort of what still remained.

Just two old friends, catching up at the end of the universe.

“Okay,” Yancy said, still recovering from the revelation, a hand gesturing animatedly between them. “You mean to tell me you—you—had a thing for me and didn’t say anything?”

You leaned back, lips curled around a teasing smile. “Would it have mattered? You were a little preoccupied… you know, escaping prison. Threatening security. Nearly choking a guy with a tray.”

He pointed his fork at you. “Allegedly.”

You snorted. “Oh, right. Sorry. Allegedly.”

Yancy chuckled, then rested his chin in his hand, eyes studying you a little more seriously now. “Still. That’s wild to me. I mean, you’re—” he waved his hand vaguely, “—space captain, multiverse traveler, world saver. I’m just Yancy. Working part-time and learning how to use a toaster without breaking it.”

“Don’t sell yourself short.” you gave him a warm look, a softness creeping into your voice. “You’ve always been more than you gave yourself credit for.”

The compliment made him fidget, suddenly very interested in his coffee. “Guess I’m tryin’ to see that, now. Hard some days. But bein’ out here… slow livin’, good people. It helps.”

You nodded slowly, glancing out the window at the street beyond. “I think I needed this too. A reminder that not everything has to be… galactic. Not every problem is life or death.”

You caught his eye again, more thoughtful this time. “Feels nice just… sitting. With someone who remembers who I am before everything.”

“That’s easy,” he said. “You’re still that same person. You just glow a little more now.”

You raised a brow. “Glow?”

Yancy shrugged with a grin. “Yeah. Like… starshine-y. You walk in and the room just kinda knows it should pay attention.”

“Are you flirting with me, parole boy?”

He held up his hands, mock-innocent. “Hey, I’m just speakin’ facts.”

You laughed again, and something gentle settled between them. Comfort. History. A mutual understanding forged from parallel lives.

Then, after a small silence, Yancy’s voice turned quieter. “You still jumpin’ ‘round universes?”

You nodded, eyes flickering down to the warp crystal tucked beneath your coat. “I can control where I end up. And… I have a say. Sort of. I visit people when I can.”

“And how long you got here?”

You hesitated, then sighed. “Not long. A few hours at most. Then the crystal yanks me back.

Yancy exhaled slowly, leaning back in the booth, looking at her like he wanted to memorize this version of you. “That’s gotta be rough.”

“It was, at first.” You tilted your head, fingers tracing the rim of your mug. “Now… It feels like I’m getting better at living in the present. Appreciating the moment for what it is.”

Yancy nodded, quiet. Then he reached across the table, nudging your pinky with his.

“I’m real glad you came here today.”

You smiled at that. Not the heroic kind, not the commander kind. Just a real, tender curve of your lips.

“Me too.”

They sat like that for a while, their mugs empty, the crumbs of their scones long forgotten. A familiar silence wrapped around them. Not awkward, not heavy. Just warm.

“I used to wonder a lot about what would’ve happened,” Yancy murmured eventually, “if things had gone differently. If I wasn’t in a cell. If we’d met somewhere normal.”

Your eyes softened. “I think we still would’ve found each other. Just maybe not with all the drama.”

He grinned. “Eh, a little drama never hurt.”

A beat passed.

Then, softly, he asks: “You ever think about staying?”

You blinked at him, surprised.

Yancy didn’t press. Just shrugged, looking at you with a mix of hope and acceptance.

“Not forever. Just… long enough. For coffee. For scones. For people who missed me.” you said.

You reached for your coat, pulling it on slowly. The crystal pulsed once under the fabric, a quiet reminder.

A different crystal this time. Not the unstable one you relied on before. No, this one was new.

More stable.

A gift from Wilford.

“I think about it,” you said. “More often than I admit.”

You stood, and Yancy followed you to the door. Outside, the wind picked up, the sky shifting with the color of dusk.

He didn’t hug you—he never did. Never got the courage just yet. But he bumped your shoulder with his.

“If the universe ever lets you stop runnin’,” he said, “you know where to find me.”

You turned to him, smiled once more.