Bruce climbed down out of the truck with his two mugs in hand. He trudged across the parking lot where many rigs were parked side by side grumbling as the drivers slept. Each on was lit up with marker lights, some more than others. The amber and red of them, in the truck stop parking lot, seemed to match that of a small town at Christmas.
And it seemed a dark and dismal night. One that he had not seen in a long while. A mist had formed in the air seeming to shroud everything around him. The pavement beneath him was damp. Very fine droplets were falling, moistening his hair. It was cool as it touched his skin soothing the heat of his body a bit. After having Jonathan at the wheel, he was heated and the chill of the finite misty rain made for a comforting finish, really.
Stepping up onto the walkway, he made his way to the door. Pulling it open, he made tracks to the men's room right off. He stepped into the handicapped stall being it had a sink and he could sponge himself. Setting the mugs on the back of the toilet he relieved his bladder first, then washed his hands and then the mugs. Finally, he began to sponge using the brown paper from the dispenser. All the while he scolded himself for forgetting to bring his washcloth along.
Wetting the towel, he squirted the soap onto it. Giving the paper a good squeeze he loosened his clothing beginning to wash. Making short work of it, he tossed the paper in the receptacle. Pulling on the handle he tore off another sheet that he wetted, then used it to rinse off all of the soap. When his body was clean of the soap, he dispensed one more sheet to dry with. Now he felt better. Clean. Fresh. More alert.
Making sure he didn't forget his eyes and face he leaned over the sink wetting it one last time. Rubbing his eyes gently, he felt the sleep being washed away even more. Turning off the water, he dispensed another sheet of paper to dry his face and hands with. Tossing it in the trash, he grabbed his mugs stepping out of the stall. He stopped short when he saw Peter there. The heals of his hands on the edge of a sink, he was leaning on them waiting for him to come out of the stall.
"You need not be alarmed, my friend." the man spoke and Bruce suddenly coiled at the sound of his baritone voice and the thick accent in which he rolled his 'R's'. "I am here to warn you. Maurice plans to take the boy with whatever force he must use. I strongly advise that you keep watch and not tarry here much longer."
"Oh, I intend to leave as soon as I get me some coffee and coke." he paused looking at him curiously. "Where ya from, Peter? You have a distinct Russian or some kind of accent."
"I am from Russia, yes." Peter smiled faintly at the man's curiosity.
"You're very handsome. I don't know if anyone's told you that, but you are." Bruce found himself mesmerized by his eyes. The light crystalline blue of them were very distracting to him at the moment. They appeared almost transparent. The shade of blue was so pale and transcendent. He literally felt a deep love from him as he peered long into them.
"Thank you, my friend. And no, no one has said so." the tall blonde pushed himself off the sink stepping toward him a step. His long hair fell around his shoulders as he moved shrouding his arms and chest a bit.
Bruce moaned unintentionally, as he watched its length undulate minutely when he moved.
"What are you? I mean, you can't be human, not really." Bruce's eyes now wondered over the man curiously. His disbelief that he actually existed was troubling him, but only a little.
"I am a man, Bruce. That is all. What thoughts you may have had of me, I cannot regard. I have not heard them. And I do not fly, leap abnormal distances, scale walls with peculiar speed, or bite people on the neck." the last he threw in as humor to bring this man back to reality a bit.
"Oh, what a shame." Bruce grinned. "That would've made you my hero." he chuckled looking down then. "I wanted to thank you for looking after Jonathan all this time." he lifted his eyes and head staring into those beautiful eyes of Peter. "I hope when this is over, we can get together. Have dinner with the family and talk, you know." he shrugged feeling somewhat inadequate himself at the moment.
"Hmm." Peter's lips curled up in a full smile now. "I would like that, Bruce. It has been a long time since anyone has offered such to me. I hold it in high regard, and yes, I will accept your offer. That is if you can trust me."
"Why not? You don't plan to kill us all, do you?" Bruce half laughed. It was a nervous laugh hoping that no one came in seeing them standing there just talking. Although, they were only talking. Then he realized his nervousness was because of his desire. What he saw standing in front of him was so very tempting to say the least.
"No, my friend. I have no intention of hurting anyone. I only mean to protect the boy. He has been through much already and is in need of the comforts that you and your family give him. I am pleased that you have taken him in and my work here is almost finished."
"See, now..." Bruce stopped short thinking about that he was about to say. "...That statement makes me think you're not from here. I mean, earth, this world. Like you..."
"Ah, you think I am from heaven, or hell perhaps." Peter grinned. "You have not seen many angels or devils have you?"
"No. And I did think you might be one. An angel, I mean."
Peter laughed lightly. But it wasn't an obnoxious sound or one that mocked Bruce's thoughts. "What I am, as I told you is a man. I bleed just as you do, Bruce. I breathe the same air. I think much as you do. But I will say that some of Mr. Bowman's chief's had attracted the attention of my country and when I infiltrated and reported my findings of the youth, I was instructed to protect him from as much abuse and harm as possible. I was assigned to him, as you would say."
"Ah..." Bruce now understood why he had so suddenly appeared in Jonathan's life that day. "Okay, then I was wrong. But you don't seem the cop type. And you don't fill the picture I have of a tough Russian."
Peter laughed again. "You are very humorous, Bruce. For whatever it is worth, I was raised in a very loving home. Not much like the normal Russian atmosphere, we traveled and I have seen much in my years. I do have compassion that reigns free in my heart. That is only because I have seen too much hate and abuse to be the same."
"I'm glad of that. And I hope you don't allow it either."
"You should go. Tony will begin to worry and come find you. Leaving Jonathan unprotected is not the good thing right now."
"Yes..." Bruce stepped forward but Peter didn't move away. He stopped again looking up at his angelic face.
"Watch your mirrors, my friend." he almost whispered.
Bruce nodded, realizing the man had taken to opportunity of their closeness to say this. He watched him step aside, then stand watching as he went to the door. A shiver came over him suddenly. He could feel the man's eyes on him, burning hotly through him.
Quickly he pulled the door open, leaving the restroom into the store. He made short work of fixing his coffee the way he liked it, and then filling his larger mug with coke. After paying for the two, he rushed out the door and to the truck.
"Where the hell have you been! I almost went in lookin' for ya. I started the think somethin' had happened." Tony fussed.
