COME Monday morning, Zed had swiped neither right nor left on any dating profile in nearly forty-eight hours. Given that information, one might be led to assume that he'd given up on the app.

The truth was far more strange.

The profile that he had fatefully come across his screen Saturday afternoon had served as a way to occupy his time, much like Alastair had the week prior. Whenever he was feeling particularly bored or unhappy he would merely open a screenshot of the app, taking in the sight of the near stranger who somehow shared the same face and name as his employer.

Though, to say that he was wholly unacquainted with the smiling man in the photograph wouldn't be entirely true. They had met only a few times and for very brief moments, but not one of them was any less memorable than the others. The thoughtful man who had gotten him a card for his birthday; the grieving man who needed comforting; the depressed, impulsive man who had drunkenly called him over at midnight and kissed him; the friendly man that shared casual touches with him and called him 'mate'.... They all lived within the same, cool, detached exterior.

But here, on a dating app of all places, he had found the real Augustus MacIntire: the one that smiled as if the sun burned bright inside him, the one who liked cricket and hated cats, the one who was looking for someone to pass the time with.

It was nearly too much for Zed to handle, but he wasn't ready to let go of him, just yet. So, sitting at his desk, he looked down at the profile with a small, contented smile.

Suddenly, his mobile vibrated with a text. He promptly tossed it across the room as if he'd just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Shaking away his guilty conscience, he retrieved the device from where it had landed, grimacing at the name on the screen. Surely, he had set a self-fulfilling prophecy in motion, as the text had been from the man himself.

Go to 6 Hanbury St at noon today. It's important.

The fantasy of a man he might know suddenly shifted to the painful reality of the one he did know. Of course, it was important that he go to some random address during his lunch break. Why bloody not? It wasn’t like he’d had plans that he would now be forced to cancel.

After sighing deeply to calm his annoyance, Zed retook his seat and settled back into his usual routine— check the calendar, make any calls that needed to be made, file receipts, repeat— until about 11:30. He then pulled on his coat and set off to complete whatever ridiculous task his employer had in store for him at 6 Hanbury Street.

It wasn't until he had made his way up from the Underground station that he began to have a sneaking suspicion of where he had been sent. In his haste, he had neglected to recognise the street name that had been one of the few constants in his childhood. For, no matter how long his mother had to save up the money, every birthday and proud accomplishment had been celebrated by taking a ride on the Charing Cross line and getting breakfast, lunch, or dinner at the same restaurant.

He followed the building numbers only to find himself in front of Poppies Fish & Chips, just as he had hoped. Pleasantly confused, he decided to text for further instructions, only to find the other man was far ahead of him.

Come in. You're already late. Tsk. Tsk.

His heart skipped a beat at the words and his head shot up. Taking a closer look through the glass, he found the man in question sitting at a table against the wall. As their eyes met at last, the CFO stopped tapping his fingers, waving his assistant inside and seemingly resisting the urge to smile. When Zed failed to move, he rolled his eyes and sent another text.

You know, it's rude to stare.

The vibration of the mobile in Zed's hand broke him out of his odd trance and he hurried inside. Once he had reached the table, however, he refrained from sitting, still unsure of what he was meant to do. He looked at him imploringly. 'Sir?'

'Sit down. Please.' He gestured to the chair across from him.

Though Zed did what was asked of him, frown lines still creased his features like a rumpled bed sheet. 'Mr MacIntire, I don't mean to be rude, but why exactly are we here?'

He rolled his eyes, though this time it appeared more friendly than exasperated. 'For lunch, obviously.'

He bit his lip to stifle a smile at the ridiculousness of the situation. 'Sir, I—' He cleared his throat. 'I mean no offence by this, but I would never have pegged this place as one of your usual haunts.'

MacIntire chuckled, shaking his head. 'No. It certainly isn't. If it wasn't important to be here today, I could have easily gone through my entire life without once entering this... fine establishment.'

Zed tilted his head slightly. 'If you don't like it, then why did you want to come here?'

'Because you like it.'

Far too many questions swam around in the fishbowl that was his skull to form coherent outward representations for any of them.

After a long moment of simply staring at his employer, MacIntire finally answered the unasked question. 'The picture of you and your sister that is on your desk was taken in front of this restaurant. I figured that it must hold at least some happy memories.' He paused, offering up what Zed thought to be a fairly encouraging smile. 'Happy one year anniversary, Higgins. Now, go buy us some fish and chips, will you? I'm starving.' He brandished a twenty pound note with a small smirk.

Zed took the bill, shaking his head in disbelief, his heart flooding with warmth as he did just that.

After wading through the increasingly busy restaurant, the two men decided to sit outside, despite the cool October day. After a long, awkward silence, Zed spoke with as much confidence as possible. 'So, Mr MacIntire—'

The man so named gave a weak smile. 'Mac. Please. For today, at least.’

A small shiver ran up Zed's spine as he remembered the last time his boss had uttered those words. 'Mac. Yes. I know that small talk is not something you enjoy, but I do feel awkward simply sitting here and not speaking.'

His employer chuckled. 'You're right. Sorry. It's not that I don't like small talk, per se, it's that I'm simply not any good at it. Never have been. I've always been much more blunt. To the point.'

'Yes, I know. What was it you said the day you hired me? “I don't work with people who slow this company down. The second you disappoint me, you're fired. Welcome to Engineering Global”.' He laughed lightly at the memory. 'Seems like a million years ago, instead of just one.'

Mac smirked. 'I suppose I can be a bit… overbearing at times.'

Zed chuckled outright. 'A bit, yeah.' He caught Mac's eyes, smiling. His employer returned his gaze with a smile of his own. It was just enough to remind him of the man whose profile he was so fond of revisiting.

'Believe it or not, I am attempting to be better. Become more—'

'Human?' Zed finished with a smirk.

'You’re pushing it, Higgins.' His tone was flat, but his face was still bright.

'Zed. Please. For today, at least.'

Mac smiled, starting to pick at his chips. 'Quite. Good show, old man.' There was silence for a moment before curiosity seemed to get the better of him. 'You know, I'm half-afraid to ask. That business on Friday— Did Ally... say anything? About me, I mean.'

Zed went seven shades of crimson as he picked nervously at his food. Besides the fact that you're apparently very good in bed? 'Had I known he was speaking about you, I would have stopped him—'

But Mac put up a hand, silencing him. 'You didn't know. It's past. And if you don't wish to share, I'll not make you. We're just— two friends having a chat. I'm not your employer right now.'

Zed's blush darkened as he considered his words very carefully. 'Looking back, I realise he simply said what I already know.'

'Which is—?'

The assistant's heart pounded loudly in his chest. 'That you pride yourself on your work. That you're very blunt. But— that you can be caring when you want to be.'

Mac looked as though he was considering the other man's words for a long moment before returning his gaze to his chip basket. 'And you knew that already, did you?'

'Well, yes. In a way. I call them your “glimpses of humanity”.' Zed regretted his words the instant he spoke them, as Mac's eyes shot angrily upwards.

'My “glimpses of humanity?” Do explain.'

Zed's breathing had suddenly become very shallow, indeed. He felt his mind seizing and sputtering. 'Just that, the little things you do sometimes... It's like when you got me a birthday card, or called me “mate” and introduced me as your equal... this lunch! Small acts of kindness that—'

'Make me human? And what, the other ninety-nine percent of the time I'm a faceless, emotionless, and uncaring robot, is that it?' Mac's face had gone a bit on the red sides, his tone falling quickly from bright to serious.

'N—no, I only meant— that the kind things you do are—'

'What, rare at best?! Because giving you a job, promoting you, employing you, isn't good enough?'

'Mac, I—'

'Mr MacIntire. At least, that's what you can put on your résumé as the name of your former employer.'

'Augustus, please—!'

Use of his true name seemed to only further Mac’s rage. 'I expect your office to be cleared by the end of the day. Anything left behind will be thrown out.' The CFO left, fuming madly as he set off on foot, leaving the former assistant to sit, bewildered yet again, by what had just happened.